


Adler's Little Fish

by Jak_the_ATAT



Category: Call of Duty (Video Games)
Genre: --quote by Dimitri Ivanovich Belikov (circa 1981), Adler gets hurt too not just Bell, Aight but everyone loves Bell and takes care of her, Also character death, And now for triggers:, Bell is a woman, Body mutilation, But that's in the major warnings, Caretaker!Adler, Caretaker!Belikov, Caretaker!Lazar, Caretaker!Woods, Chunga Changa, Dadler, Drugs, Except Hudson because he's a little shit, Explosives, Gen, Heart Attack, Hospitalization, How Do I Tag This, Humor, I promise this is not as dark as it sounds, Implied abuse, Implied death of family, Injury, It's the COD campaign, Kid Fic, Kid!Bell, Language Barrier, Memory Loss, Needles, Rewrite of the BOCW Campaign, Seizures, Solovetsky Islands is the equivalent to Wonder Island, Whump!Adler, Whump!Bell, crack!fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 47,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28289562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jak_the_ATAT/pseuds/Jak_the_ATAT
Summary: A little girl found abandoned in Turkey brings about a new set of challenges for Russell Adler as he promises to bring her home, even if that means finding Perseus becomes his second priority.A retelling of the BOCW campaign but Bell is a 7 year old kid.
Relationships: Dimitri Belikov & Bell (Call of Duty), Russell Adler & Bell
Comments: 183
Kudos: 84





	1. A Little Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my fic! This is a kid!fic so don't read if that's not your preference. 
> 
> For each chapter, I will be tagging possible triggers in here, but expect the story to go as basically the campaign went with a slight twist here and there. 
> 
> Triggers for this chapter:  
> Hospitalization, Blood, Injury, MK-Ultra, mention of seizures, mention of heart attack, mention of suicide bombing, electroshock therapy, Injections, mention of Hives, mention of diaphragm collapse, mention of vomiting, Hypersensitivity to touch, Crying, Memory Loss, mention of loss of speech, mention of beetles and snails
> 
> I swear it's not as bad as it sounds but

"Over here! We got a live one!"

By a live one, Adler meant a tiny child bleeding out from her chest. The logical side of him wanted to end her misery, as she had little chance of survival. But, when she began singing despite choking up blood, an instinct he had suppressed years ago came to light and he chose to save her.

By miracle, she survived the drive to the hospital. Even more of a miracle, her body stabilized overnight, allowing Adler to transfer her from Farabi Hospital to Langley within a day. Over the next two weeks, he, Helen Park, and a team of CIA scientists kept her in a coma as they pumped her with drugs to keep her alive.

Three weeks after her rescue, they woke her. Then, the question they were all avoiding finally came to light: should they try MK-Ultra on her? She'd be the first child to come in contact with the procedure, and successful results could change the program's utilization.

Adler said no. Sure, he didn't have much morality left in his line of work, but the little he did have revolved around children.

"Kids are crafty," Park reminded him. "Sometimes more lethal than adults. But you would know this: how many children did you witness planting bombs in MACV camps? And what about the one ten-year-old suicide bomber?"

"Yeah, well this isn't 'Nam," Adler retorted.

Unfortunately, Park and the CIA scientists voted yes. The girl underwent electroshock therapy to fry her brain, making it more responsive to MK-Ultra. She was injected with two doses and left in a room for 24 hours with TVs playing Vietnam footage as Adler's recorded voice droning about his Vietnam memories. When she hit all expected benchmarks, they gave her a second double dosage.

And all hell broke loose.

Three seizures in 80 minutes. One cardiac arrest. One collapse of the diaphragm. A hives breakout. And vomiting. Six hours later, the cycle repeated.

Half a dosage of the reverse MK-Ultra drug kept her from having a third relapse, but another half sent her into a seizure. Unanimously, the team agreed to back off on treatment, though it didn't excuse the fact that she lost most of her memories and sometimes forgot how to speak. She cried if she couldn't speak, but now and then, she'd forget how to do that as well. Adler finally bought her a desk bell to ring and conditioned her to associate the sound with food and comfort. And it worked.

The last time the girl saw the reverse MK-Ultra drug, it was a quarter dosage. And it failed. She seized and threw up twice, then woke up crying, forgetting how to speak and what to do with the desk bell. Adler couldn't even hold her in his arms, her skin too sensitive to changes in pressure. The only thing the team could do was wait for MK-Ultra to wear off naturally and hope she didn't die in the process.

Early one morning, as Adler received confirmation that Sims and Azoulay would join in his search, his attention became sidetracked by aggressive ringing of the desk bell. Adler ran to the room, preparing for the worst but instead found the girl repeatedly whacking the bell, a mischievous smile on her face.

She asked for chocolate milk.

* * *

████████ ███████████ **"Bell"** ███████  
██████████ ████████ **West Berlin**  
██████████ **1981**

**Five days after release from Langley's hospital...**

DING! DING! DING! DING!

Adler reached in the back of the car and grabbed the desk bell away from Bell's lap. She made one last failed attempt to hit it before he put it on the dashboard, far out of her reach. "If you're going to be annoying, wait until we get to the safe house."

"I'm bored," Bell whined.

"I know you are." _'It's not like you haven't told me a dozen times in the past ten minutes.'_

Bell fell quiet, first grumbling, and then humming along with the car's engine. "Can we play 'I spy?'"

 _'Aren't you sick of this game yet?'_ "Sure. I spy something green."

"A tree?"

"Yeah, but which tree?"

"Not fair! There's so many trees!" Bell crossed her arms and fake pouted while Adler bit his lip to keep from saying anything he'd regret later.

Never had an hour-long drive been so painful.

He finally parked the car in a brush and the two walked the next half mile to the safehouse. The entire walk, Bell ran laps around him, finding various rocks she thought were shaped like beetles or snails and proudly giving them to Adler as gifts. And of course, Adler didn't have the heart to say no. So by the time they met Park, he was holding some 20 rocks and Bell was carrying two more she had just found.

Park looked him up and down, keeping a poker face though Adler could almost hear her laughing. "Adler," she said cautiously.

"Park," Adler addressed.

"Hi, Pretty Lady!" Bell said. "Why don't you have your glasses on?"

"Because she can see now," Adler said.

"Could she not see before?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

Park waited for translation but Adler waved her off. The British agent went ahead and banged on the garage door. "I have questions about your choices, Adler."

"I have explanations I'll share inside, Park," Adler muttered. He honestly couldn't wait to put the rocks down. He had been hoping for a nice smoke on his walk here but no. He got rocks, and not the tasty kind.

Once inside, Park shut the door while Adler addressed Sims and Lazar before finding a corner where he could put the rocks down. "Why don't you stack these for me?" He told Bell. She nodded and sat down, immediately occupying herself, but facing so that she could always watch him.

Adler approached the others, who were staring at him oddly. They waited until he finally got a chance to give himself a light before Lazar broke the silence. "Nice kid you have there."

"She's not mine," Adler said. "Mason, Woods, and I found her on the tarmac in Trabzon."

"Why bring her here?" Sims asked.

"She'll be an asset to us."

"How so?" Park asked. "You never did explain to me earlier."

"I was saving it for a group reveal." Park rolled her eyes. So Adler continued. "She knows Perseus."

The three stared at Adler, then at Bell who was singing to herself as she kept stacking. "How'd you find that out?" Lazar whispered.

"I mentioned the name back in Langley. She wasn't able to talk at the time I asked her, but she reacted and started laughing."

"So she knows where Perseus is!" Park concluded. "We can go straight to him."

"You're a dumbass if you think there ain't a catch," Sims huffed before realizing his assumption. "Is there a catch?"

Adler nodded and lit a cigarette. "The catch is that she's been hit with MK-Ultra. We can't reverse it quickly without her seizing. She doesn't have all her memories intact." He watched the group shift awkwardly before adding an extra punch. "Also, she can't speak English."

"So you bring her here," Sims asked.

"Yes."

"But... why exactly..?"

"Short answer: I couldn't find a babysitter," Adler took a deep drag before continuing. "Long answer, she's willing to give up information if we promise her that we'll return her home."

The four turned to look at Bell again. Oh, she had somehow snuck up on them and was standing next to Adler. "Dyadya, come play with me," Bell begged.

"Not now, Bell," Adler muttered in Russian. "Your uncle is busy." Bell swayed back and forth a little, her gaze not dropping.

"Hello, Bell," Lazar said, crouching so he wasn't as scary and making Bell finally stop her staring contest with Adler.

Bell waved shyly as Adler gestured to Lazar. "Bell, this is Lazar."

"How are you?" Lazar asked. When he heard Adler translate, he tried to repeat it. "Kak dela?"

"Нормально." Bell gave a thumbs up. She then turned her attention back to Adler. "Please...?"

"Not now. Later," Adler gave her a nudge. "Go on."

"Promise?" Bell squeaked.

"Yeah. Sure." Adler nudged her again.

Bell wasn't going down without a fight. She clamped her 3'6" body around him, refusing to be pushed anywhere until she was happy. "You gotta say it!"

Adler nearly reeled. Oh, he had so many words to say to Bell right now. But when the corner of his eye caught Park, Lazar, and Sims judging him, he forced himself frustration down. "Я обещаю. I promise." He pushed her off him once more and she went a few feet away before sitting on the ground, waiting for him.

They stared at one another for a few seconds, Adler studying her as Sims' question rolled through his mind. Perhaps he was crazy to bring her along. And yet, Adler needed something—anything—to gain an advantage over Perseus. If that meant kidnapping the neighbor's kid, then so be it.

He grabbed the book Bell had been holding when he found her and opened it, the other agents looking at him curiously. For the past 36 hours, the team had been trying to crack the codes. And never had it once occurred to him that Bell might be able to understand it, though Adler had his doubts. Oh well. Worth a shot.

"Bell, come back up here." Bell bounded to her feet and ran over, crashing into Adler's leg and making the CIA agent wince. Adler grabbed a stool and set Bell on top, then satires to the book. "Do you understand anything here?"

"Not yet."

"Not yet? What do you mean?"

"Anyone know what they're saying?" Sims asked. Park and Lazar shook their heads.

Bell shuffled through the book's pages. "You gotta set the code right at the beginning and end, and then you can understand it."

"How do you know that...?"

"I did it once."

It took some effort for Adler to keep his jaw from dropping.

Bell flipped through the pages until she reached the first page. She pointed to a string of letters and numbers. "This is the first line—" she then went through the book until she hit the end. "And this is the last line."

Park snapped her fingers before Adler's face. "Adler, care to share what she's talking about?"

Adler switched languages. "Bell knows how to decode this."

"What!?" All three chimed.

"No time to explain," And Adler began to boss around everyone. "Sims, set the decrypter to these two lines she just pointed out. Find out if that's true."

"You got it, Doc," Sims said as he took the book, leaving Bell completely confused.

"Lazar, go through everything we have and pull up anything about Perseus."

"Sure thing," Lazar hummed.

"Perseus is cool!" Bell interrupted.

Adler ignored her. "Park, get MI6's data. If what Bell says is true, we can cross-reference everything."

Park looked at Adler curiously. "And what are you going to do?"

"Talk with Bell. She might have more."

"Ask her how she knows how to decode something," Park challenged. Adler translated the question.

Bell didn't even hesitate to answer. "Mitya! He showed me!" Adler just relayed the words, not pressing farther on who Mitya was.

Now that the other three had something to do, Adler agreed to play with Bell but only if he could ask a few questions. So they knocked over the rocks and restacked them. "What kind of person is Perseus?" Adler asked.

"Who's Perseus?"

"I thought you knew who Perseus is."

"Is?"

"Isn't Perseus a person?"

Bell took a second to think. Then her eyes widened. "Ohhhhh! Yeah! I know Perseus. He's weird. He's all naked and stuff."

"Wha—"

"I saw the statue. The Greeks like him but I dunno why."

Adler tried not to lose his cool. Fine. She either was being evasive, or she literally didn't know who Perseus was... asides from her mythology. "Alright, Bell...what about your mother and father? Do you have any siblings?"

"Yeah, I got a mama and papa, and I had a little brother, but he died."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Mama said he died when being born." Now Bell took over. "Do you have siblings?"

"I did. Two older sisters. They're also dead."

"That's sad."

Adler nodded, wondering where he was going with this conversation.

So Bell took initiative. "How are babies born?"

Wow. The stereotypical question. Adler didn't even think that was a real thing yet here they were. Bell toppled over the rocks and restacked them as she waited for an answer.

"Uh..." Adler turned to the team and switched languages. "How do I describe how babies are born to a kid?"

"Tell her it's magic," Lazar answered.

"Get real graphical," Sims chimed.

"Say you'll tell her later," Park said before glaring at Sims.

Adler decided on none of those. "Ask Woods when he gets here."

"Who's Woods?" Bell inquired.

"He's a friend of mine. You'll meet him in a few days."

"Oh," Bell said. She knocked the rocks over, landing them on Adler's carelessly placed hand. Adler winced and Bell began giggling.

Bell's short attention span took note of the evidence board. She stood up and wandered over to it, Adler following while massaging his hand. He trailed her gaze to the picture of Perseus.

"When was this taken?" She asked.

"1950s," Adler said. "Handsome man. Hope the years haven't been too kind to him."

"They haven't. Papa's uglier now."

"Good to kno—" her words clicked in Adler's brain. And Adler nearly died in his spot. Worst part was that he couldn't ask more probing questions after convincing her he was her second-removed weird German uncle who moved to the U.S. when he was two years old.

Bell didn't notice his falter. "Can I have my picture next to Papa's?"

Adler snapped back to reality and racked his brain for a solution. "Sure," he said, and Bell smiled. Adler grabbed the camera, making the others look at him. He was used to eyes on him for doing peculiar actions, so why was it this particular time that he felt so self-conscious?

Might have to do with the whole new intel part.

"Park, come take a picture of Bell. She wants one," he said.

Park obeyed. "What are you planning?"

"She wants her picture on the evidence board next to her father." He said it loud enough for the others to hear. Sims dropped something and Lazar stopped breathing.

"Are you--?" Park scowled. "You brought Perseus' daughter--"

Adler now shot her a glare, halting her with a raised finger. "Don't. Continue. We need her trust if we want anything about Perseus. The least we can do is pretend to be Perseus's friends. For now, Bell is harmless, so you shouldn't worry about it. But she's wicked smart. Do not slip up. She'll know."

Park settled back into her normal self, though still weary. "Call her over," she said, taking the camera from Adler's hands.

Adler did so and explained Park would take her picture then let Park take her to a corner for a blank background. In the meantime, he went to chat with the other two, picking up Lazar's jaw on the way. "Sims, I need you to get Hudson on the line. Lazar, how's that digging coming?"

"I still think you're crazy, but here." Lazar tossed down a few files. "Last time Perseus reared his head, it was in Vietnam. During Operation Fracture Jaw."

"Shit..." Sims groaned. "Some part of me always knew we weren't done with that mission."

Adler opened the file and browsed through the intel Lazar gathered. While he did that, Lazar went to go find something else to do and Sims tapped his pen against the table.

Sims finally spoke in a low tone. "Doc, whatcha planning on doing with Bell?"

"I don't know." Adler took another breath of his cigarette. "What I do know is that Bell is a direct link to how Perseus thinks. This could be a game-changer."

"And it could easily go the wrong way." Sims took a drag from his cigarette. "MK-Ultra might've removed some of her identity, but she ain't completely forgotten who she is."

"It's a risk we have to take."

Sims gave a low chuckle. "You owe me $50 if this goes south." With that, he grabbed the phone and began to make some calls.

Adler returned to the evidence board and stared at the picture of Perseus. For a man that seemed so methodical and careful about leaving a trace, Perseus left a major trace of himself behind for Adler to find. Not just a piece of paper or a document. His own daughter.

"This isn't like you to leave someone as important as your daughter behind," Adler muttered. "What are you planning, Perseus...?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big thanks to KnifingGale (tumblr: Yunatheintrovert) for beta reading this chapter!


	2. Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortly after the first chapter was published, I received a message from KnifingGale (tumblr: yunatheintrovert) saying "I made an aesthetic based off your story!" And I was floored. I later went into the ground when EnderAvis followed up by saying "I made a story based off your story!" Never have I had anyone feel so inspired by my writing to create something of their own, and it wasn't just one person either! 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who enjoyed the first chapter, and a special thank you to KnifingGale and EnderAvis. You two absolutely made my week! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the next chapter!
> 
> Warnings: Medication, mention of perverts, character knocked out but this is part of the campaign so you should expect that.

KnifingGale's aesthetic:

EnderAvis' fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28304130

* * *

As proud as Adler was of the day's progress, Volkov and Kraus' capture became second priority when he found Bell asleep near her rock stack, her dinner plate near her head. Adler called it a day and brought her back to the hotel, where he made tea for both of them. Part of him could still smell that god awful lemon shit his ex-wife used to drink. She had an addiction to tea. After they separated, Adler started to catch on to her tea addiction, but he refused to have lemon tea at all costs.

He slipped a dose of Warfarin in Bell's tea before waking her and serving it. The drug was to keep her from having a third heart attack. It was also supposed to make it a little harder to breathe, though considering she ran non-stop all day, Adler highly doubted that.

Bell stuck her finger into the liquid. "It's hot."

' _No shit.'_ "Don't burn yourself."

"Do we have ice cubes?"

Adler shook his head.

So Bell blew on it until she could drink it. As she drank, Adler retrieved Bell's second medication from the cupboard.

"Do I have to..?" Bell whined.

"Yes." Adler handed her a Tegretol pill for her seizures.

Bell frowned and stuck out her tongue. "It's gross."

"I know it is. But you have to take it."

"Don't wanna."

Fucking kids... "Come on, Bell. I'll get you some chocolate milk tomorrow."

Bell grumbled and put the pill in her mouth, then sipped the tea. She made a face as the pill went down. "See? It wasn't that hard," Adler said with a smile that Bell didn't share.

She sang her favorite song _Chunga-Changa_ as she brushed her teeth before the Tegretol finally kicked in, making her do head bobs. Bell crawled into bed, telling Adler one more story about a boy she beat up in school.

"That's not nice," Adler said.

"He called girls ugly!"

"Still not nice." Sure. He was the right person to say that when he beat up assholes all the time.

"Papa said it's okay."

"Your papa and I have very different ideas about what's right. But don't think about that tonight." He tucked her under the covers and pat her head. "Спокойной ночи. Good night, Bell."

"Споки." And Bell went asleep. Adler went to bed himself and followed shortly after.

He'd like to have slept longer, but a little over three hours was all he got. Waking up at ungodly times wasn't new to Adler, but waking up with 120 decibels in his ear and 50 lbs falling onto him as his alarm clock was entirely new.

"Dyadya, wake up!" Bell whispered, patting his arm.

Adler groaned. "No."

"ЭЙ! ОЧНИТЕСЬ!" Bell sprang onto the bed and landed on his legs. "WAKE UP!"

"Ow! Fuck!" Adler plucked her off his legs and set her on the floor so he could sit on the edge of the bed. "I'm awake! What do you want?" Bell stared at him quizzically and it took a minute for Adler to remember he had to switch languages. "Bell, it's 03:47 in the morning. This better be important."

"Yesterday was Defender of the Fatherland Day and we didn't get to see the fireworks," Bell climbed back on the bed and belly-flopped across his lap. "Mitya always brings me to the fireworks."

"You want fireworks? Here." Adler grabbed his lighter and flicked it on. "See? It makes fire work."

Bell pouted. "You're all grumpy in the morning, just like Papa."

_'Well, waddya know, Perseus. If this is how your morning starts, we might have something in common.'_

"If you want, you can still sing when we get to the safehouse," he said.

"Really?"

"Sure." He picked her off him again and stood up, his body happily reminding him of his age. He looked in the fridge, knowing perfectly well what was inside and yet still opening the door in hopes new food had appeared. Just an apple and Grießbrei. And a need to go shopping. If he wasn't so worried about Bell being targeted by anti-communists, this wouldn't be a problem. He considered leaving her with the others, but she cried every time he went out of sight.

"Can I have the pudding?"

Adler opened the can and tossed her it, then found her a spoon only to turn around and see Bell inhaling the pudding without spoonular assistance.

He practically bathed her from wiping her hands and face. And she still wanted part of his apple.

Around 05:00, Adler pushed her to the bathroom. "Go get dressed. We got a job to do today."

Bell nodded and went into the bathroom, then came out a minute later half-naked. "What's the job?"

"Catching Kraus and Volkov." Adler pushed her back into the bathroom.

The next time she appeared, she had the toothbrush in her mouth. But at least she was dressed. "Anton Volk'ff?"

"Yes. We talked about him yesterday, remember?"

"I d'n't l'ke Volko'ff."

"Neither do I." He pushed her back into the bathroom and told her to spit, then left her and went to get dressed.

"He got into a lotta arguments with Papa!" Bell shouted from the bathroom.

"That so?" Adler kept his tone the same as he finished dressing, but his mind locked onto her words, wanting every bit of information she had to spill. "Sounds like a delight to be around."

"He was really mean to Mama. And he always stared at me creepily, especially when I wore dresses."

Adler nearly broke something.

And Park requested to take this son of a bitch alive.

"That's, um... that's not good," he managed.

"I know, right? Papa didn't believe me!" She came out from the bathroom, toothpaste dripping out of her mouth. "He g've m' th's." She rolled back her sleeve and showed off an old scar running around one shoulder.

"Well, I'll make sure he gets what he deserves." Adler pushed her back into the bathroom once again before she drooled everywhere, glad she was oblivious to the rage pouring through his every vein.

* * *

"You motherfucker!"

Adler whirled around to see Bell laughing up a storm. Sims and Lazar were not helping. "Bell!" He snapped "Don't say that!"

"But Sims taught me," Bell replied.

"I don't care." Adler reverted to English. "Sims, Lazar, do something more constructive with her, for cripes' sake."

"Whatever, Doc," Sims hummed.

Lazar chuckled. "And he said he wouldn't be a good father."

Adler pinched the bridge of his nose. Park came up behind him and patted his shoulder, sharing his frustration.

She also wanted to talk to him.

"We got a problem," Park said. "And you look like shit."

"That's an understatement," Adler poured his third cup of coffee. The two smoked and drank together in the rock stack corner, watching Lazar teach Bell how to use a camera so she could take pictures of Sims.

"Hudson called Sims earlier this morning. He's needed at the other West Berlin safehouse." Park took a puff.

"Shit..." Of course, luck didn't work with him. Which left him thinking: who was going to take care of Bell now? Should he bring Bell along while they were hunting for Kraus? Wouldn't that just be one more liability? "Can you stay with her?"

"I thought I was handling comms. Have Lazar do it" Her voice was sharp, and he didn't blame her. He, too, wished Bell was anyone but Perseus' child.

"Lazar is overwatch."

"Then have Bell watch with him." When Adler moved to protest, Park quickly interjected. "If Lazar is good at his job, he won't be spotted and neither will Bell."

A weight slammed into his waist, nearly knocking Adler over. "Dyadya, what's behind the cage?"

Adler's eye twitched. Why did she do that? "Nothing."

"Can I see?"

"No. Don't go in there either. There's bad stuff in there."

"Then can I sing?"

"Sure." He switched languages and explained to the three agents the situation. The four adults gathered around Bell, who proudly belted out the Soviet National Anthem.

 _"Союз нерушимый республик свободных  
_ _Сплотила навеки Великая Русь.  
_ _Да здравствует созданный волей народов  
_ _Единый, могучий Советский Союз!_

 _Славься, Отечество наше свободное,  
_ _Дружбы, народов надежный оплот!  
_ _Знамя советское, знамя народное  
_ _Пусть от победы, к победе ведет!"_

"Отлично!" Adler said and clapped, secretly glad the ear rape was over. The other three agents clapped as half-assed as he did. Bell didn't seem to notice.

Thirty minutes later, Bell fell asleep inside Sims' van. Adler developed the pictures for her, surprised that she had a pretty steady hand, and also severely disappointed that she went through an entire two rolls taking pictures of Sims and no one bothered to stop her.

* * *

████████ ███████████ **"Bell"** ███████  
 **3 miles from Friedrichstraße, East Berlin  
** ██████████ **1981**

For Bell, riding the train was an outer world experience. It didn't matter there was nothing to look at as it traveled through the tunnels. The motion of moving so quickly without having to move her feet reminded her of how Mitya described flying his MI-24 felt. Even better, Uncle Russell said she could come along with him. Sure, he argued with the big friendly Laser, Sims, and Pretty Lady, but at least she got her way in the end.

The only downside was Uncle Russell's stupid rules. He told her not to say anything the entire train ride because she didn't speak German. Easier agreed to than done. She had stories to tell! Besides, she spoke German! She knew Wunderbar, Schokolade, Bratwurst, and the entire _Moskau, Moskau_ song!

If she didn't say something right now, she might explode. Bell shook Uncle Russell's arm to wake him. "Papa, Papa," she said.

Uncle Russell motioned her to be quiet. "Ruhig," he muttered, then went back to ignoring her. She frowned. What did that mean?

Bell gulped air and made herself burp to catch his attention (and many others on the train). She couldn't read Uncle Russell's expression behind his giant sunglasses but he gave her attention and set her on his lip, saying something not in English, but certainly not Russian. Too much guttural noise. Uncle Russell pulled her against his chest and hugged her, but also whispered in her ear. "Be quiet, Rybka. We're almost there."

Bell grumbled. She had things to tell him! Uncle Russell said something more to her in that guttural language and Bell sent back to wondering if it was possible to explode with too many ideas.

Uncle Russell suddenly put her down and stood up. Bell perked up. Finally! Something was happening! He motioned for her to follow and let her hold on to his hand. Laser joined them as they went to another car.

"As soon as the train slows down, you, Lazar, and I will jump off," he said.

Oh. It was Lazar.

Uncle Russell directed his words to Pretty Lady now, speaking in English. He then opened the back door of the train. "Rybka, come here." Bell obeyed, letting him pick her. "Tuck your arms in," he said to her as he sat in the doorway. She did so. "Stay quiet," he told her for the tenth time in the last hour as he cupped her head against his chest and used his other arm to run up her back, providing some protection for her back. Then he jumped.

Bell remained completely silent, though she did grunt when they hit the ground. Uncle Russell rolled to his feet, then set her down. "You okay?" He whispered. She nodded. Laser—Lazar—caught up to them and the three began walking along the tracks. "You can talk, but keep your voice low," Uncle Russell said.

"Dyadya, did you see how fast we were moving?"

"I did."

"And did you see the way the doors make those funny noises?"

"Really? That so?"

"Uh-huh! Ooh! And did you hear the lady from the speaker? She sounded cool. Also, what's that thing in your ear? Do trains normally travel underground? I thought they had coal cars. Where's the caboose?"

"Adler," Lazar warned.

Uncle Russell quickly scooped Bell up and signaled her to stop talking. Ahead, she saw police patrolling the area. Bell curled up in Uncle Russell's arms, staying quiet as he jumped the median and into the other set of tracks just shortly before a train shot between them and the police. From this angle, trains suddenly seemed far scarier.

Uncle Russell set her down, but wouldn't let her hold his hand as they walked. Not that Bell complained. So long as he was near her, that was good enough. He took the lead and she stayed on his heels while Laser trailed behind. "Can I talk?" She whispered.

"In a minute," Uncle Russell promised. He signaled something to Lazar, who nodded. The two crouched below the tracks and snuck up towards the guards. Bell herself crouched, though she was shorter than the platform so it didn't matter.

Suddenly Uncle Russell and Lazar jumped up onto the platform and Bell soon heard muffled yelling. A door creaked, then someone dropped what sounded like a gun, followed by a loud THUMP! Bell tried jumping to see what was going on, but when nothing came to view, she tried to climb. Her fingers couldn't find anything to grab on to and she slid back down.

Panic rose into her chest and she tried climbing again, this time more frantically. Should she yell for Uncle Russell? What if the guards were still there? What if they wanted to leave her behind?

She heard someone coming towards her. A moment later Uncle Russell hopped back down into the tracks with her and picked her up. Bell immediately clung to him. "Whoa, easy, kid," Uncle Russell said. "Save your grip strength for another time."

"Don't leave me," she said.

"I'm just handing you up to Lazar, okay?" Uncle Russell turned down so she could see Lazar better. "And I'll be right up behind." Bell reluctantly let go of him and let the two taller men pass her between their hands. Once Uncle Russell climbed back up, she hugged his arm and hung on as they walked through the four bodies lying in a room.

She, unfortunately, had to let go when they climbed a slimy ladder. Lazar lead the way while Uncle Russell took to the back. Just as they escaped the manhole, two guards wandered into the area, disrupting their easy travels. Uncle Russell immediately confronted them with his hands up, speaking that guttural language. Lazar also held his hands in the air so Bell did the same.

One of the guards pointed their rifle at her. Bell waved.

Lazar grabbed Uncle Russell's pistol and threw it at one guard. He charged forwards, shoving the guard's chin up with his palm and wrapping his fingers around the guy's throat. Then he punched the guard on the side of the head, knocking him cold. Meanwhile, Uncle Russell sucker punched the other guard.

Then they hid the bodies.

"Cool," Bell said in English, making both men chuckle.

Uncle Russell let Bell talk in whispers, but it was enough to help her from exploding with excitement. The best part? He asked questions about her stories sometimes. He only interrupted if there was immediate danger as the three snuck through the building and to the rooftops.

Bell stopped talking when they got to the roof. "Whoaaa, Dyadya! Look! The constellations!"

"Yep. What do you see?"

"Mm-hmm! There's the Little Dipper! And there's Canis Major. I see the Pleiades. And Betelgeuse. Where's Draco?"

"I don't know," Uncle Russell said half absently. "Bell, come here." Bell turned her attention from the stars to the camera in his hand. "Use this to look for Kraus."

Bell took the camera and cautiously approached the edge, her stomach queasy when she looked down. Lazar must have noticed because he pulled her back, then pushed on her shoulders until she was on her knees. This felt a little better. Still too high for her to be super comfortable, but at least she was more stable.

After an intense few minutes of one-sided hide and seek, she saw him. "There!" she whispered. "He's right by the street post!" She handed Uncle Russell the camera to look through.

Uncle Russell studied where she looked, then smiled. "Bingo."

"—was his name-o," Bell finished. "Wait, I'm not supposed to know that rhyme yet."

Uncle Russell ran a hand through his hair, his perfect combover becoming a little messy. He said something to Lazar before switching to Russian. "I'm going to meet with Hudson's informant inside. You two stay hidden and stay quiet." But as Uncle Russell handed the camera back, Bell grabbed his wrist.

"Bell..."

"Can I come?"

"No, you're too young."

"No I'm not."

"I'll be right back. I promise. Stay with Lazar until I tell you to come to me."

"Why can't I come?"

"Because you need to be 16." Uncle Russell slipped her hand off his wrist and patted her head a second before jumping down to a walkway.

Bell watched him go. Nervousness crept up her and she wanted to chase him. But the jump he made was far too high for her. She lost sight of him until he crossed the road. Some Stasi glanced at him but didn't fully pay attention.

She heard Lazar say "Adler'' before the rest became gibberish. Bell went over to him and tapped his shoulder. He looked up at her. "Da?"

"Can we follow Dyadya Russell?"

Lazar said something else but Bell didn't understand. And when she made that apparent, he guessed her question and said, "Nyet."

"Why?"

He ignored her. "__ ________," Lazar said, before speaking into the radio.

"Copy that," Uncle Russell replied. He then went silent and she heard other voices but didn't understand what they said.

She sat by the radio and listened to it, though not understanding a word. All she knew was that on the other end was Uncle Russell.

Lazar moved and Bell glanced up. She watched him release his pistol's mag and slide two bullets out. He replaced the mag then drew his knife and scratched something on the casing before handing them to her. In the dim light, she realized each bullet had little eyes and a smile.

Bell beamed. Lazar signaled for her to stay quiet but he let her play with the two bullets. "Lazar!" He glanced at her. "This one's gonna be named Zayats and this one's gonna be called Volk."

Lazar just awkwardly smiled.

Rain began to pour. Bell ran for cover by Lazar, who didn't provide the best cover but the idea was there. As for Lazar, he had bigger concerns. "Adler, ___ Stasi ___ ______ ____ ___."

"___ __," Uncle Russell's voice muttered a few seconds later. He also said something else.

"Kraus is Stasi," Bell added. Lazar glanced at her but didn't respond.

Bell peered over the edge and watched the building. A moment later, she saw a glimpse of Uncle Russell. "Lazar!" She whispered as Uncle Russell snuck down the back alley and entered another building.

Lazar didn't answer her but began chatting with Uncle Russell. Bell once again strained to recognize words but none came to her easily and the ones that did weren't enough for her to understand what was being said.

Then Lazar began walking towards the way they came up before stopping and asking something into his radio.

"Следует за мной!" Uncle Russell shot back. Bell frowned. The hell? Who was he talking to?

Lazar studied Bell. "Bell. Sleduet... za mnoi. Follow me."

Bell pocketed the two bullets and followed Lazar. They worked their way back into the streets. As they entered the streets, Lazar held Bell's hand and walked her across the street. She only paused once to kick a puddle.

They entered a building where Pretty Lady was hiding. She was listening to a giant radio. "Adler, _ ____ Bell." She gave Bell a little doll.

Uncle Russell answered, then switched to Russian. "Bell, Lazar needs to help me so you go with Park. Pretend she's your mother and don't speak. We can't let anyone know you're Russian. Once you're inside the apartment building, Park will enter a room and you'll go up a floor. Play with that doll until she comes to get you. Understand?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Repeat it."

"Uhhhh, Pretty lady—"

"Park."

"Park is my Mama... and Kraus is evil."

"... What do you have to do?"

"Pretend to play."

"Where?"

"I dunno..."

Uncle Russell groaned. He explained the plan again, and this time Bell got it. "Good. Be careful."

"Okay..."

Park stood up and took Bell's hand, Bell hooking her arm around the doll. A little device set between their palms. The two walked through the rain towards a large building across the street. They went inside and the receptionist shot a smile towards Park.

"Guten Abend."

"Guten Abend," Park said with a sweet smile towards the woman, who nodded. Now cleared, they walked down the hall and to the stairs.

Park stopped before a specific door on the stairway. "Lazar, _____ ___ ____," Park whispered.

A moment later they heard the phone go off. Park released hands and quietly opened the door. She gave a gentle smile before turning Bell towards the stairs leading up and slipping inside.

Bell went upstairs. It was no fun playing alone, even though she was good at it. Uncle Russell made playing so much more fun. He came up with stories all the time and encouraged her to pretend to kill her toys. The toothpick sword war was her favorite game, though it usually ended when one of them bleeding.

She heard some yelling from the room below but some quick assessment told her she was fine. She looked at the little device Park had given her. How funny looking. It was flat but had a distinguished button on it.

What a funky device.

Then she heard something moving nearby. Bell glanced around but saw no one. Just one of the doors down the hall opening. So she went back to fake playing, singing her mom's favorite song:

 _"Scows full of mullet  
_ _Kostya brought to Odessa.  
_ _And all the drayman stood up  
_ _When he entered the pub._

 _"The deep blue sea beyond the boulevard,  
_ _The chestnuts in bloom over the city.  
_ _And Konstantin takes the guitar,  
_ _And sings in a low voice: ..."_

A new voice joined her. A voice she knew too well.

 _"I will not speak to you for all Odessa;  
_ _All Odessa is very large.  
_ _But Moldavanka and Peresip  
_ _Adore Kostya, the sailor."_

Bell sprang to her feet and bolted down the stairs away from Volkov, putting the device in her mouth. She slid to a stop before the door Park went in and opened it. "Pretty Lady! Help m—!"

Kraus met her on the other side of the door with a pistol to her face.

The last thing Bell remembered was biting down on the tracker to start it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I kind of can't tell what I'm doing? XD
> 
> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Abandoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year's everyone! 2020 is finally over!
> 
> Warnings: belittling, blood, graphic descriptions of violence, hallucinations, mention of Holocaust, choking, and not the sexy kind.

"Adler, we have a problem."

Adler snuck up behind two guards and cracked their heads together. "Can you not start with those words?" He grumbled as the guards flopped to the ground. Then he headed towards the apartment's balcony.

"I can't find Bell."

He stopped in his tracks. "Okay, that is a problem. What do you mean you can't find Bell?"

"What do you think it means?" Park shot back.

"Did you check the other floors?" He climbed the railing.

"No, Adler, I stood around and did nothing."

"Would you two shut up?" Lazar joined the conversation. "Or get a room. Either would suffice."

Adler fell silent, listening to his surroundings before jumping down from the balcony and saving his knees by shoulder rolling. He continued walking. "Did you at least get the tracker on Kraus?"

Park went radio silent.

"Park..?"

"There's another problem."

"Oh my fucking god, Park. You had one job—"

"And I only had one tracker."

Adler rubbed his temples then drew his pistol from behind his jacket. He took his anger out on a guard with a bitch slap followed by a smack over the head with the pistol.

Then he spoke again. "Rendezvous back to the radio tower. Lazar and I will be there soon."

"Understood."

He turned off his mic and just about lost his shit against the one rock in the street big enough for him to kick. Of course the problem involved the most defenseless member! Nothing ever went smoothly! Worst part was that he couldn't blame anyone because it was his idea to send Bell with Park.

Stupid, stupid, stupid idea, Russell Adler.

He couldn't dwell on it too long. He had a mess of his own to deal with. Greta Keller only bought him so much time to escape. Adler used a fifth of it rescuing her fellow informant and another fifth arguing with Park.

Not that he had a problem outrunning people. If by anything, that was his specialty. Plus, part of him still remembered where he was going and which street brought him where. Sure, the little neighborhood he used to play in was totaled and replaced with giant, communist block buildings, but they never changed the streets. 42 years ago, he use to throw fits as he walked up this hill. Now, Adler cleared it in a few strides.

He did pause to look at the former neighborhood. _'Wonder if my parents live here still?'_ He thought, though he highly doubted it. Auschwitz wasn't known for its survivors.

Voices caught Adler's ears. He climbed a new building's scaffolding and remained there until the guards walked by. Once they passed, Adler returned to the street and ran in the shadows until he reached the hotel. He slipped through the backdoor and moseyed past curious eyes before meeting with Lazar across the street.

Lazar tossed him an MP5. "Park's just up ahead," he said as Adler wrapped the gun strap over his head.

"She should have stayed with you," Adler muttered. He checked his pistol's ammo.

"The least we can do is hope she's okay."

The two crossed down a back alley and into the radio tower where Park was waiting. Before Adler could say anything, Park spoke. "Bell turned the tracker on."

"She did?" How did she know what a tracker did? Adler summed it up to her being curious at the button. Then again, Bell was a child of war, having grown up around Perseus' violent psychology. Her knowledge of military technology could be quite expansive for her age.

Park gestured to the tracker's monitor, showing Bell's supposed current location. "It's likely she's with Kraus, considering the tracker hasn't been noticed."

Lazar hummed. "Would be cool if she's pretending to be an old friend."

An idea flicked through Park's eyes. "If she is with Kraus, this could change everything. Kraus will go to Volkov, then Volkov will go to Perseus. And we can follow."

"I dig it," Lazar said.

"I don't," Adler grumbled. "We're going after her."

"Care to explain why?" Park challenged.

"You can ask Bell about it. But if we leave her with Volkov, she may not return to Perseus in one piece."

Park and Lazar exchanged confused glances but went along with the explanation. The three continued to talk for a few more minutes, passing ideas back and forth and still wondering if Bell was actually with Kraus or if they would waste their breath running after him. Might as well check it out, they concluded. Adler wanted to go in guns blazing. Lazar wanted to go in guns blazing but with a plan. Park wanted a plan with minimal guns.

And when they realized they were getting nowhere and wasting time, they agreed to go with no plan except to assess everything first and maybe shoot. The three stocked up on a few smoke grenades and Adler grabbed a concussion grenade. They took an extra mag for their MP5s, then added grappel hooks to their loadout. And when they finished, they studied the monitor. The tracker had stopped moving in a large warehouse.

"I know that place," Adler said. His oldest sister broke her leg there.

"You do?" Park frowned. "How?"

"I've been in East Berlin before."

"Of course you have."

Into the night they ran. Adler took them on some sort of parkour course, avoiding all spotlights and prying eyes. Every now and then, he recognized the street, digging up memories he didn't even know he had, none of them lighthearted. If Berlin ever opened up again, he'd have to come back here and spend more time interacting with those memories. For now, he had a little girl to save. He blinked a few times and the line of people getting their backs chalked disappeared.

They reached the warehouse, Adler assessing the building and deciding they couldn't enter through one of the doors. The garage side was closed. The only backdoor was probably blocked off. A little more assessing revealed a fire escape leading up to the roof. Adler moved to stand below the fire escape. "Lazar, help me out. Park, you jump."

Lazar nodded and the two locked arms together, giving Park a place to step. They threw her up to the bottom rail. Park pulled herself up and unstrapped her MP5, propping it on the stairs. She hooked her legs against the bottom rail then hung upside, catching each boys' wrist when they jumped for her and pulling them up.

The three moved to the rooftop pleased to find a skylight. They peered through, trying not to block any of the moonlight. Sure enough, there was Bell and—oh shit, they got Keller too. Both girls were tied to chairs and gagged. Bell had worked herself just loose enough that she could rock back and forth, a habit Adler found showed off her boredom. On the opposite side of the room stood Kraus and Volkov, Kraus angrily wiping down his shoulder.

"I want a raise," Kraus complained. "What kind of child willingly shoves her entire hand in her mouth so she can throw up on me?"

"One that had a poor mother figure," Volkov replied. "I hope your wife knows how to wash clothes well."

The door opened and a few members of the Russian and German mafia walked in. In the mix stood a young man that drew bile into Adler's mouth. That little fucker Richter! And he actually spent time and energy to free the man. He should have shot that asshole like his gut told him.

The group approached Bell and Keller. One man walked behind Bell and Keller and untied the gags, which did nothing to change the girls' death glare. Keller spat some words towards Richter, equally pissed, while Bell just eyed Volkov.

Volkov approached Bell and knelt before her, far too close for Adler's comfort. If he didn't have a few more heads to account for, Adler would have shot the slimy Russian right now.

"Good, you're awake," Volkov hummed in Russian, making Bell frown harder. Adler strained his ears, just barely making out the words. "Perseus has a large bounty for your head."

"He does?" Kraus interrupted.

"Shut up, Kraus," Volkov growled.

Bell didn't say anything.

"Such a quiet child today. So unlike you, little one." Volkov smiled and pat her cheek, Bell whimpering and trying to slip away. "Such a foolish, beautiful child."

"You motherfucker!" Bell shouted in straight English. She stuck out her tongue. "Pbbbtth."

Adler facepalmed. Park slipped a hand over her mouth, and Lazar whispered, "Sims always misses the good stuff!"

Volkov apparently didn't think it was funny. He punched the girl across the face, making her squeal. Then he knocked her chair over onto its back. Keller reacted with a squeal of her own and got whacked in the face with a pistol by one of Volkov's men.

Now Volkov rested a foot on Bell's knee, leaning over her and making her twitch. "Do you think you will die with dignity here?" Volkov snarled.

Bell twitched more.

For a brief moment, Adler internally freaked out, memories of Bell's seizures flooding his head. Except she seemed too in control of her body. Her head shifted up and down, then left to right, then she began pushing it forwards as she snapped her teeth at the air.

And then it clicked.

Bell couldn't breathe.

The little girl tossed and twisted her body more, eyes wide, face starting to drain of color. Keller noticed it as well and made an attempt to escape only to be hit again.

Adler had quite enough. "Park, go for Bell."

"What's the plan?" Lazar asked.

Adler handed him the smokes. "Rain fire."

"And don't kill Volkov," Park added.

They locked their hooks around a single pole and smashed through the window, Lazar popping the smokes and Adler and Park firing as they rappelled down. Adler landed his first bullet squarely into Richter's head. His second bullet hit Kraus. He then aimed Volkov but the Russian was smarter and ran into the smoke for cover.

Lazar and Adler landed near the doorway, taking down the two men guarding the entrance between the two warehouse rooms Lazar then held the entrance while Adler continued to clear the room, shooting everyone he could find in the smoke. Somewhere in the room, he heard Park clearing out the guards near the prisoners.

Adler worked his way around the smoke until he could see Park. She had righted Bell and was performing Heimlich Maneuver on the little girl, who finally heaved up the tracker.

"Jesus Christ..." Adler muttered while Park untied Bell and let her roll to the floor before helping Greta.

Someone grabbed Adler from behind. By luck, Adler's instincts kicked in just in time for him to get a quick elbow into the henchman's ribs. But it wasn't enough to knock the guy down, and within one step, the man had his balance back. Adler swung around, MP5 leading, and was met with a fist to the cheek followed by a foot to the chest. He tripped on himself and went down, the MP5's stock stabbing his bicep. A few shots escaped the muzzle as he struggled to recover while still falling, but none landed on the henchman, who practically threw himself on top of Adler to pin him.

BAM!

"Shit!" Adler squeaked as blood splattered from the henchman's head just inches above his own. His entire life flashed before his eyes.

BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!

Seven bullets pelleted the henchman, most of them chest area and higher before the M1911 clicked. Adler pushed the man off him and rolled to his knees. "Thanks, Par—" His eyes met Park's wide ones.

In front of Park stood Bell, M1911 outstretched towards him.

_'Holy shit.'_

* * *

"Dyadya!"

Bell dropped the pistol and sprinted towards him, ignoring Uncle Russell's warnings for her to wait. She slammed into his waist as she heard Park murdering someone behind her. Uncle Russell hugged her back. Not super affectionately—he was really bad at affection—but enough so that she felt better immediately. "You came back!"

"I did," Uncle Russell said. He knelt down. "You okay?"

"Uh-huh! Guess what? I made Volkov mad! I said 'you motherfucker!' to him and he nearly exploded!"

"Good for you. Now don't say that."

"Why? Sims says it."

"Sims is an adult."

Bell grumbled. "I wanna be an adult."

"You'll get there." Uncle Russell went over to the guy she killed and picked up his pistol. He peeked at the mag, then handed the pistol to her. "You have ten rounds left. Got it?" She nodded. "Follow me, Rybka. We got a job to do and a Volkov to catch."

They worked their way towards Lazar. "Hello, Bell," he said happily.

"Здравствуйте!" Bell smirked as Lazar looked towards Adler for help and—Aw, he actually helped him. She liked confusing people better.

"Bell, do you know how to stack?" Uncle Russell asked.

"No duh! I stack those rocks! You know that!"

Uncle Russell gave a tight unamused grin. Bell lined up behind Lazar while Uncle Russell took the other side of the door, Park and the red-haired, who had a T shaped weapon, joining behind him.

Uncle Russell popped a grenade and threw it in. She heard a loud bang and disoriented shouting as something broke and a cat Wilhelm screamed. He ran in first, followed closely by Lazar, then Park, then her, and finally red-haired lady. Chaos ensured as the team opened fire.

Bell planted a nice bullet into one guy's head. "One down!" Oo-rah! It didn't take her an entire mag to kill him! She did the same thing to another before completely missing all her shots. Darn, she didn't even have an extra mag. Bell began searching for a new pistol. Oh. Dead guy over there. Bell looted his body, finding a pistol, and checking the mag. Full mag! Woo hoo!.

Her eyes locked on Volkov running for the back door. "Dyadya! There's Volkov!"

"I see him!" Uncle Russell slid over to her side of the room. "____! _____ __!" He switched back to Russian. "Get to the door, Bell! I'll be right behind!"

Bell ran to the next solid object while Uncle Russell provided cover fire. She pushed halfway up the hall before stopping and shooting some bad guys while Uncle Russell made his move. He really liked sliding and diving a lot, she noted.

As they neared the end, Bell tried sliding to the door. She made a few quick steps like she saw Uncle Russell do and then dropped to her butt. Or so was the concept. In reality, she messed up and face planted, right in front of the door.

Thank god Uncle Russell was right behind her. He pulled her out of danger all while shooting into the door to keep enemy heads down. His funny fat gun clicked just as he reached cover. "No time to be sleeping, Bell," he said as he reloaded it while Bell burst into giggles.

She quickly calmed herself, remembering what was important. "I saw two targets in there," she said.

"I did, too."

"My pistol's empty."

Uncle Russell handed her his pistol. "Don't drop it."

"I got left," She said.

"I'll get right." Uncle Russell switched sides of the door, and the two stacked against the frame. On his signal, Bell rushed forwards and opened fire on her target while Uncle Russell's fat gun blazed above her head, taking down the other.

A third target appeared, tossing something towards them. Before she could register what it was, Uncle Russell pulled her behind cover, his hands cupping around her ears. White light snapped burned her eyes as thunder roared through her chest. The need to puke arose but never happened.

It took a minute for her to find her way awake. When she did wake, her head stung. A few blinks cleared her vision enough so that she recognized Lazar shooting past her hiding spot.

"Bell!" Lazar called. Bell waved. Lazar ducked behind cover and gave her a thumbs up. She returned it.

Wait, was Uncle Russell okay?

Bell glanced to her side to see he was awake but looked really pale. Blood trickled from his ears. "Uncle Russell!" She called out, shaking him.

He jumped, then calmed down when he saw her. "Get Volkov," he said rather loudly.

Oh right. That bitch.

Bell nodded and scrambled to her feet, grabbing Uncle Russell's pistol and leaving Lazar to take care of Uncle Russell. She rounded the corner and shot up the last guard, leaving only Volkov, who was cornered farther down the hall.

"KGB, open up!" She yelled. "You're under arrest!"

Volkov weakly turned around, his arm bleeding badly. He smiled and dropped his pistol. "So here we are..." he chuckled. "Your father would be disappointed in you, little one. Working with American scum? And what for? You'll die in their hands, be it on the battlefield or later."

"That's enough talk." Bell glanced over her shoulder to see Uncle Russell stumbling his way up behind her, Lazar trailing. She brought her eyes back to Volkov.

"Speak of the devil," Volkov huffed.

"You're mean!" Bell snapped, rage starting to burn through her. She kept the pistol pointed at his chest.

Uncle Russell hooked his fat gun against his body and approached Volkov. "You're coming with me," he said, a little bit slurred and too loudly as though he didn't really know what to do with words.

Volkov chuckled as Uncle Russell grabbed his arm and pulled his arms back. The slimeball kept his eyes on Bell, his smile never faltering. "You're just like your mother," Volkov said tenderly, almost proudly. And then his voice grew rough. "Pathetic... sorrowful... a whore—"

Bell fired.

The bullet landed in Volkov's chest. He started to choke while Uncle Russell recovered from the shock of nearly being shot. Bell pulled the trigger again but only heard the dreaded _click!_

Volkov dropped to the ground and away from Uncle Russell's grasp, but his hungry eyes still stared at her. Bell stormed forwards and stamped on Volkov's head. "Умри!" She stamped on it again, tears burning her eyes. "Умри!" And then she began kicking him. "Die! Die! Die!"

"Bell!" Uncle Russell scooped her away, Bell still screaming and kicking. "Bell, that's enough!"

Volkov cackled as Uncle Russell held Bell, the two glaring at him. Park and red-haired lady turned the corner, Park breathing a sigh of relief and saying something about Volkov.

"You should have joined her, child!" Volkov choked through his own blood. Bell gripped Uncle Russell's jacket and the pistol tighter until her knuckles turned white. She wished he'd back up. They were too close; Volkov could jump at them any time. "You would be far better dead like your—"

Uncle Russell pointed his fat gun and fired three shots into Volkov's head. Park cried out, then turned on her heel to yell at Uncle Russell, who just stared blankly as he worked the pistol from Bell's hands.

Bell wrapped her arms around Uncle Russell's neck, hiding her face in his shoulder. Volkov was dead. So why didn't she feel safe? She heard the adults discussing and watched as they parted ways with the red-haired lady, giving her pistol but taking her fat gun. She watched as Stasi ran towards the building where the shootout occurred, long after they had escaped to the rooftops.

It was dawn when they got to the hospital and mid-afternoon when they returned to the hotel after a short trip to the grocery store. The doctors said Uncle Russell couldn't hear. He'd be fine in a few days, but until then Bell didn't know who to talk to. Sure, Uncle Russell could occasionally lip read and he supposedly knew sign language, but it wasn't the sign language she knew. Not that it mattered. He still missed almost everything she said.

So she stopped talking.

Right now, as he made tea, she lay on the bed playing with Uncle Russell's empty lighter. She reached into her pocket and found her bullets, Zayats and Volk, then stacked them on the lighter.

Uncle Russell put the tea on the bedside table along with her other pill. She picked up the cup and blew on the tea until it cooled, then downed the pill and all her tea. He raised an eyebrow but didn't comment.

"You should get some sleep," he said, still a little loudly and sloppily. "You've been up all night and most of the day."

Bell shook her head.

Uncle Russell patted her head. Her green eyes met his blue ones, and she hated how sad he looked. "Do you know how to use a knife?"

She nodded.

He dug out his knife from his bedside table and held the hilt towards her. "Show me."

Bell got up, putting her toys near her tea mug. She took the knife. Upon seeing him nod, she thrust her hand forwards.

He deflected her hit by pushing the back of his hand up against her wrist. "You're not fast enough. It's too easy to counter. Hold it backhand like this." She let him turn the knife around and adjust her arm until her fist sat over her shoulder. "Now try."

Again, she stabbed. Then again. Each time, Uncle Russell praised her and told her she was getting better, even though he kept catching her wrist. But his words quickly fell on deaf ears as the anger built up all day finally bubbled over.

And when she blinked, Uncle Russell was no longer there. Instead, it was Volkov. And she was back home in Sochi.

Volkov seized her wrist. "Such a quiet child." He let it go and she tried to stab him, but her wrist landed in his hand again. "Such a foolish, beautiful child."

He let her go and she tried the same tactic, but with no success. Again and again, they went back and forth, each stab moving faster in hopes of nicking him. But Volkov wouldn't yield, his reactions still fast as ever.

"Such a... beautiful child..."

He smiled and the room spun until a bleeding body formed behind Volkov.

Her mother's body.

"Bell..." her mother whispered.

"You should have joined her, child," Volkov hissed. "You would be far better dead."

Bell screamed and threw everything she had into her stab. And she got Volkov to move. He dodged her blow, then ducked under her arm when she swung again at him. "Rybka! Stop!" her mother wheezed. Bell swung again only for her hand to collide into Volkov's arm so hard it knocked the knife free.

And then arms wrapped around her. And when Bell blinked, Volkov was gone. She was back in the hotel with Uncle Russell hugging her.

Bell slowly raised her arms and hugged him back. Tears fell freely from her eyes. "Dyadya, I'm scared."

He didn't answer her. Of course, he wouldn't. He couldn't hear. But as she dissolved to sobs, he picked her up and rocked her back and forth while rubbing her back. And as she listened to him sing to her, and the tea finally made her drowsy, she drifted off to sleep, the memories of Volkov and her mother slowly turning into a memory of the first time Uncle Russell held her in the laboratory and she first felt warmth.

_"When I die and they lay me to rest,_  
_Gonna go to the place that's the best._  
_When I lay me down to die,_  
_Going up to the spirit in the sky..."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was the hardest to write of the three because of how many details I wanted to include. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! Thanks for reading!


	4. Discovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was supposed to come out a few days ago, but then I got lazy with the editing, so here we are now.
> 
> Also, if you're ever confused about what the Russian says, I typically follow it up with the translation directly after ("Спокойной ночи. Good night, Bell," said Adler) or you can figure it out from the context of the scenario (ex. "How are you?" Lazar asked. "Нормально." Bell gave a thumbs up). 
> 
> Triggers: medication, graphic descriptions of violence and hallucinations, seizures, blood, anxiety, lots of stabbing of NiPCs (Non-imPortant Characters) but that's kind of a COD thing sooooo...

Being unable to hear for two full days turned out to be a blessing and a curse. A blessing because he didn't have to listen to Park bitching about Volkov's fate. A curse because Bell distanced herself from him. She didn't know ASL, he didn't know RSL. She also couldn't write, oddly enough. Adler never asked about it, though, more concerned with trying to maintain their crumbling relationship as Bell refused to spend time with him until their only interactions became mealtimes, the drive between the safehouse and hotel, and her nightly knife practice.

Why he cared so much for the kid when she had yet to show him any leads to Perseus, he really had no answer for. He could dispose of her now, but guilt kept him from doing so. Plus, she gave him something to take his mind off the job when he wanted a mental break.

Thank fuck he could hear by the third day, even if someone had to stand next to him. Anyone beyond arm's length had to shout. Which wasn't a problem for Bell. Her smile returned when he acknowledged her voice, and within half an hour, he was once again her personal playground.

The third day was also the day they met Woods and Mason, a day before they flew out of West Berlin. At first, Bell hid from them behind Adler. But after Mason gave her a Schabek Airbus A300 and a Processed Plastic Company military helicopter, she took a great liking to him. She took an even greater liking to Woods when he showcased his terrible conversational Russian.

Right now, Bell sat on Adler's lap, exhausted. Two air sickness episodes took a toll on her mood and her first impression of flying (she remained unaware she had flown twice before from Trabzon to Langley and Langley to West Berlin under induced comas). She turned Adler's shoulder into a runway for her two aircraft and had an ongoing story about search and rescue teams in Afghanistan. Adler ignored her for the most part, focused on the current Perseus evidence he had, but he didn't mind throwing a few words in to add more spice to her stories.

Mason and Woods' visit helped brighten her mood. "How's she doing?" Woods asked Adler while Mason gave Bell a lollipop.

"Better," Adler admitted, before having to explain to Bell what to do with a lollipop. "Good thing this is Hudson's private jet."

"Woods, I named my new toys," Bell interrupted, slobbering on herself while trying to figure out how to hold the lollipop without hands. Adler wiped her chin as he translated for Mason. "This is Samolet and this is Vertolet." She held up the fighter jet and helicopter, respectively. Adler and Woods glanced at each other, amazed at Bell's creativity.

"Those are good names!" Mason said. Then he frowned. "Reznov, stop laughing."

Woods sighed. "There he goes with his imaginary friend. Mason, she named the plane Airplane and the chopper Helicopter."

Mason went silent for a full minute before he whispered a tiny _"Oh..."_

While Mason internally died, Woods pressed for more conversation. "So, how old are you?"

Bell held up 7 fingers. "Семь. И ты?"

"Me? I'm old." That answer didn't satisfy her, and she bombarded Woods with the same question again and again until he gave her something. "Fine. I'm fifty."

"That's old!"

"Hey, fuck you too, kid," Woods muttered in English. Sims chuckled in the background then went back to napping.

"Woods!" Adler and Mason snapped. Adler looked to Mason. "Thank you!"

"Look, I was 7 and I knew all the good words," Woods said.

"Please don't influence her," Mason grumbled.

Woods continued talking. "When's your birthday anyway?"

"January 13th."

Adler's heart skipped a beat. He glanced at Woods and Mason, watching their shoulders tense. Bell didn't notice, too busy adjusting herself to belly flop across Adler's lap. "Dyadya! Большой Медведь веселый!" She spat past the lollipop.

"Yes, he's very funny." Adler wiped her chin again. "Congratulations, Woods, her starting nickname for you is Big Bear."

"Really?" Woods' ego radiated off him brighter than the sun radiated off itself. "Fuck yeah!" Mason glared at Woods again. "I mean... yayyyy!"

"You're lucky," Adler continued. "Park was Pretty Lady, Lazar was Laser, Sims was The Guy That Teaches Me Funny Words and Gets Me in Trouble, and I was Glasses Combover."

"Wait, what's mine?" Mason asked.

"No idea. Bell, what do you call him?" He gestured to Mason.

"Alexei!" She said.

Mason's disappointment was immeasurable.

Glancing at the time, Adler picked Bell off his lap and sat her in her seat, making sure not to crush Zayats and Volk whom she had buckled in. He stood up and sharply clapped his hands together, then stuck his pinky fingers in his mouth and whistled. "Team! Wake up! Let's talk Ukraine!" Lazar glanced up from his Russian-English dictionary while Park took off her headphones and shook Sims awake. The group gathered around the front of the cabin while Adler stood under the overhead TV where he could display a map of the oblast and flip through new photos they received. Lazar set himself in the aisle directly across from Adler, hands ready to sign if anyone asked questions. Bell sat on the floor near Adler's feet, trying to stuff Volk (or Zayats, he didn't know the difference) into Vertolet as she continued chewing the lollipop.

"We already know all the basics," Adler said. "So here's the new stuff. The CIA's U-2Rs drew up this from their scans in the past few days: a sudden increase in Soviet activity after Volkov's death." He paused as Bell climbed him, sighing and letting her sit on his hip. She began skimming Vertolet through his hair.

Adler ignored her. "As of now, the lineup's still the same. Mason, Woods, and I will infiltrate the place, Park will handle comms and watch after Bell, and Lazar and Sims will stay on exfil. Our original drop-in route won't work anymore, especially with the new AA guns installed at the perimeter. We'll have to go on foot and avoid any APCs until we can get inside.

"Once we land in Urzhorod, we'll only have minutes before it's go time. So if there's any questions, comments, or concerns, now's a good time to have them rejected."

Park and Sims raised their hands. Adler pointed to Sims, then winced as Bell pulled his hair. Fucking kids...

"Hey Doc, that plan was made before you went deaf," Sims said, Adler locking his eyes onto Lazar. "If you ask me, I think it'd be better if you're off the field."

"Sims, unless we have an alternative for a cryptographer, I don't see the plan changing any time soon," Adler responded. He adjusted his gaze briefly. "Park?"

"Why am I in charge of Bell?"

"It's good bonding time." Park scowled and shook her head. "Real answer, you're the only one away from the AO." He paused to take the lollipop stick out of Bell's mouth before she finished eating the stick.

Woods raised his hand. "Who the fuck does Perseus hire for babysitters?"

"Good question," Adler admitted. "For another day."

"What about Perseus?" Bell asked quite loudly, Adler reminding her to not interrupt.

Woods answered her. "We think your father might have something in Ukraine."

"Oh! Oh!" Bell bounced against Adler, kicking him in the stomach. "Zakarpatska Oblast?" She smothered the pronunciation, but Adler got the idea.

"Yeah..." Adler said slowly, recovering from the kick. "How do you know about that?"

"I saw it in Papa's numbers book! He has this number book of every building he likes to visit, and I know all the numbers to every computer in there just in case he forgets!"

Adler glanced at Woods, who was still halfway through translating in his head. The others stared at the two, confused and curious. "You what?" Adler said.

"I know what the numbers mean!" Bell beamed. Mason got a random foot cramp.

"... you _what_."

"Are there potatoes in your ears, Dyadya?" She said. Then shouted, "DO YOU HEAR ME NOW??"

Adler held her away from him. "Yes. Yes I do."

"Anyone wanna tell us what's going on?" Sims asked.

"Bell knows all of Perseus's codes," Adler said, his ears ringing.

Sims blinked. "She _what_."

Park jumped at the opportunity. "Then send her with Mason and Woods."

"Are you crazy?" Adler growled, making Bell jump at the shift in voice. "Park, it was bad enough having her with Volkov—"

"Whom you pleasantly murdered."

"—get over it. Imagine what it would be like bringing her to this place—Ow, Bell, come on." Adler pushed Bell's hand away from his hair.

"Sorry, Doc, I'm with Park here," Sims said. "She's got a point: with the plan we have now, we risk setting off every damned alarm across the Soviet Union. If Bell is telling the truth, hell, this could be the quietest mission we've ever run." He chuckled. "Besides, you were only there to handle the decrypting. You ain't even that good at decrypting yet."

"Thanks, Sims," Adler muttered.

Lazar shook his head. "I don't like it. It's fucked up, sending a little kid. Then again, she's no stranger to the battlefield."

Mason piped up from sipping water to help with post-cramping. "Well, I say no."

"Why?" Woods asked. "She'd be completely safe with us."

"Maybe it's because she's seven, ever thought about that?" Mason huffed. "I know, wild concept."

"It's like what Sims said," Woods reasoned. "If she knows the codes, we won't have to worry about computer lockdowns. Plus, Adler said she kicks ass."

In a timely manner, Bell whined and kicked Adler in the ass, making him jump. Vertolet was stuck. For the next 20 seconds, Adler struggled to get the damned chopper untangled from his hair, finally escaping when Lazar helped him. The rest of the crew waited and watched.

As soon as Bell had her chopper back, she ran it across his hair again. "Why don't you ask her?" Park flicked her finger to Bell. "Tell her everything we've discussed. She goes, you stay off the field and continue recovering. You go, she stays with me." Bitterness caught the end of her voice.

Adler pushed Bell's hand away from his head and caught her attention. "Rybka, listen up." He explained the entire situation to her, weighing the two options.

"Why can't you come?" She asked. Adler re-explained. "But I want you to come."

"I can't, Bell. It's one or the other."

"Why?"

Adler felt a blood vessel pop in his forehead. "I've already told you."

"Will you come back if you go?"

"Yes."

"Can I bring Zayats and Volk if I go?"

"... sure. Any other questions?"

"Can I have chocolate milk?"

"No. Not now."

Bell thought for a minute, humming _Chunga-Changa_ as she lightly kicked his stomach repeatedly. Adler sighed and let her do her thing. This is why he would never have kids again. They made him sigh too much. He glanced across the rest of the group, studying their faces to try and take his mind off his increasing irritation at Bell's squirming. Lazar had taken a seat near Park, worry etched deep into his features. Sims lounged across three seats, while Woods and Mason sat at the end of their seat. Park's cold eyes refused to look anywhere but Adler and Bell, impatience radiating off her.

"I'll go," Bell said. "I can help find Papa better."

Adler translated. Mason hung his head and Lazar clasped his hands together in prayer. Woods and Sims whispered to each other, and Park finally smiled.

"Did I make the right choice?" Bell pondered.

"Да," Adler nodded, slightly disappointed he didn't just decide for her. "You made a great choice." She beamed.

"Then it's settled," Sims said, Lazar signing to Adler. "I'll adjust the documents to include her."

"Thanks, Sims. If there're any other questions, feel free to talk to me individually. Otherwise, get some shut-eye. I need you all sharp. And especially you two." He pointed to Woods and Mason.

The team split up and went back to their original activities. As for Adler, he tossed away the lollipop stick, switching to Russian. "I have a surprise for you, even if I don't appreciate you getting Vertolet stuck in my hair. I planned to give it to you later, but since you're going on the mission, now seems good."

Bell's eyes lit up. "Tell me!"

Adler carried her to the back of the plane and set her down. He reached into one of the storage compartments and grabbed a small suitcase, which he put on the ground. "Open it."

Bell did so, a smile drawing across her face when she saw the Beretta 92. "Whoaaaa!" Her beaming brown eyes met his. "This is mine?"

"It is. I saw you shooting out there. You need a few more shots than my pistol can offer, and this is the best I could get on short notice."

"Спасибо!" She hugged his waist.

"You're welcome." He followed up by explaining she could only have it on the field and he'd keep it in storage during maritime. He did, however, let her hold the unloaded weapon and point it around to get a feel for it.

Then told her to take a nap.

* * *

████████ ███████ **████** **"Bell"** **███████**  
 **The Zakarpatska Oblast, Ukraine, USSR**  
 **████████** **27th, 1981**

Unlike Uncle Russell, Woods was not very good at piggyback rides, and it mildly annoyed Bell. She appreciated the ride being faster than what her legs could cover. But that was it.

Alexei lead the way down an unmarked path, chattering with Woods and sometimes Park and Uncle Russell on the other side of the radio. They didn't give Bell a radio, saying that she was too small. She didn't believe them until Woods held one near her head and Park provided a mirror on one of her face rearranging thingamabobs. Seeing it was nearly as big as her head, she agreed with them reluctantly.

Still...

Her eyes saw the giant building long before they reached the clearing. She always called it the Maya Building because it looked like a building Mitya showed her in books. Upon reaching the clearing, Alexei stopped moving, hiding behind a tree but resting his long gun's wooden barrel against the side of the tree.

Woods helped her off his back. "You still loaded?" he whispered. She frowned. "Do you have... things?"

Oh.

She quickly checked her vest for everything Uncle Russell equipped on her. Her fingers brushed against her four mags and her knife. At one hip, she felt her new pistol, at the other, a small pouch with a capsule containing two new special pills and a roll of gauze. And, of course, Zayats and Volk were still tucked in one vest pocket. She gave a thumbs up and Woods returned it. Bell gave a thumbs up to Alexei, who didn't even react.

Woods handed her a camera. "Take a picture," he whispered. "Ops will wanna see this." Bell obeyed, making sure to get plenty of pictures until Woods stopped her and took it back, reminding her to save some film for later. "Stay here until I call you." With that, he joined Alexei's side and the two snuck off.

Bell watched them disappear. That same sense of dread filled her stomach. First Uncle Russell didn't want to come and now Woods and Alexei left her. At least give her a light! The dark's scary, don't they know that? It's in the night when the worst happened... she knew from experience. People got drunk and harmed others. Sometimes they didn't even need to be drunk.

Plus, what about Baba Yaga?

Her eyes scanned around her and she swore she saw movement in the shadows. Should she shoot? Wouldn't it be loud? Maybe she should follow them. She began to follow, then realized she didn't know where they went. What if she got lost?

Woods would come back, right?

Alexei, maybe...?

Her eyes noted movement off to the side and she pointed her pistol towards it. Oh, it was just Woods and Alexei crossing the road. Her heart slowed and she could breathe again. She lowered her pistol.

The two snuck close to the guards, staying in the shadows. Suddenly, Alexei pounced, grabbing the first guy's neck while Woods threw a knife into the second guy's neck. Woods charged the third guy and locked arms with him as Alexei took out the knife from the second guy and threw it at the fourth guy, catching him in the forehead. Meanwhile, Woods headbutt the third and punched him in the face. Then the two strangled the fifth. The two collected their knives and confirmed each kill by slitting each guard's throat open.

Woods looked towards her and signaled to come. Her fears quickly disappeared as she slid down the hill and ran up to them while they cleaned their blades on their sleeves. "Whoaaaa! Teach me how to do that!"

Woods chuckled. He and Alexei passed a few words before Alexei wandered off. "Mason's gonna disable the, uh, area-thing... perimeter alarm!" Woods explained as he drew some tools from a pocket on his vest and began poking a the guard hut's lock. He cracked open the door and handed her the camera again.

Bell took pictures of the maps and photos inside. She even took one of Woods picking a second lock, which he didn't approve of. Once again, Woods had to take the camera away "Let's go." He pushed open the door and they crossed into the Maya Building's grounds.

Something must have upset the guards, for the last time she was here, she didn't remember there being so many big trucks around. Everywhere they walked, something rumbled the ground. She overheard a few soldiers talking about the surprisingly warm evening for a February.

February?

Wait.

That meant she missed her birthday.

Sadness enveloped Bell. Papa told her Arash would take her to Iran with him on her birthday where they could visit Qasim. And somehow she missed it.

Speaking of Papa, she only remembered small snippets of her life before meeting Uncle Russell. The last memory she had of Papa... well, when was that? She saw him at a meeting table with others but heard no voices and only saw blank faces except Papa's. She remembered laying on the floor poking Papa's boots and thinking about the feast that night.

Feast...that had to be New Year's Day, right?

Unable to complain out loud, Bell hugged Woods from behind. Woods froze and remained stiff for a few seconds, then pushed her away as he shook his head. He did, however, take the time to look her over, signing the universal 'you okay?' She signed back her problem but like Uncle Russell, Woods didn't understand RSL

At least Sims kinda did...

They continued. Things would have gone smoothly had it not been for a spotlight that forced the two to jump for cover behind barrels. Bell accidentally kicked a barrel upon landing, making it thump. Woods glanced back at her. She couldn't tell if that was anger or disappointment in his eyes. No matter. The sound alerted the closest guard, who had been reading a book while on duty, being the most removed from his comrades.

"Кто там?" He shouted. "Who's there?"

Bell held her breath as gravel crunched under the guard's feet, growing louder with each step. Woods signaled to Bell, and while she didn't understand what he meant by it, she guessed he planned to attack the guy when he drew one of his knives.

The guard paused on the other side of the barrels. Woods swung out and dropped to one knee, slashing the guy behind the kneecap, then drove the knife into the chest and covered the man's mouth as he pulled the knife out. He stuck the knife in the guard's neck and dumped the guy behind the barrels. Bell scrambled back before the guard landed on her. Woods picked her up and plopped her on her feet, and the two moved to a darker area.

Woods' head snapped up. Someone must be talking to him. "Yeah, yeah, __'__ _____," he whispered. "___ Adler __'_ ___ _ ____ ___ ____."

"Dyadya?"

"Hush."

Not fair. Why did he get to talk and she couldn't?

The rest of the sneaking went quite well. Only once more did Woods have to kill someone. He went for a neck snap, timing his attack with the growling of a passing truck's engine. The only other scare they had were scouts driving around on a tank. The two crawled under one of the non-running trucks to avoid the light. Other than that, they had no issues.

Woods must have heard new info for he whispered back and forth with Alexei—she knew because he used a slightly softer tone of voice with Alexei than everyone else—as the two reached a small guard's building against the Maya Building. He scanned the outside for windows, but finding none, he gave the door a quick try. Locked. Woods pulled out another knife, one far more complex looking than his first knife. He held it between his pinky and ring finger on one hand while the rest of his fingers fiddled with the lock breaking tools.

The door opened. "Intruder!" A guard seized Woods by the shoulders and pulled him inside. Woods just barely managed to drop the lock breaking tools and adjust his knife so the blade shot from its handle into the guard's side, making the guard cry out. "Sound the alarm!" He called to his buddy through his gritted teeth.

Bell charged, drawing her knife and throwing it to the ground towards Woods. This guard was small compared to Uncle Russell! She quickly scaled him, hooking her fingers into his shoulder and pulling the shooty knife out of his side. She redirected the blade into his neck. Blood splattered across her hand as the man screamed, trying to pry her off. She only shoved the knife in deeper and her fingers dug into his shoulder until she felt blood vessels pumping through the clothing.

In the corner of her eye, Bell watched her knife fly across the room and slash the second guard's face while he ran towards a large red button. Woods shot forwards and met the other guy with a fist to the jaw, followed by snapping the guard's neck. He turned on his heel and gave her a curt nod. Bell let go of the shooty knife and tumbled to the ground, hurrying away as Woods took over and cracked the first guard's neck as well.

Woods gave a heavy sigh. "Чёрт... goddamned, teach me how to do that." She giggled. He grabbed her knife and held it out to her. "Holy shit."

"Holy shit," Bell copied, reaching for her knife, only to stop when she saw her hands. Ewwwwwwwwww... blood... She held them out towards Woods.

Woods frowned when she refused to take the knife. And then a lightbulb lit up his very blue eyes. He did his best to wipe the blood off with his non-bloody sleeve. "Don't touch your face," he said as he finished, strapped her knife back on her vest.

The two explored the room, Bell taking pictures of whatever looked useful. "You want the Makarov?" Woods asked, pointing to a pistol on the counter.

"Can I?"

"Sure." Bell snatched it up. Then she held it out to Woods to carry for her, making him roll his eyes but find a place to put it.

The doorknob jiggled. Instinctively, Bell ducked behind the desk. Woods took a spot on the opposite side of the room, aiming his gun.

The door opened and Alexei rushed in, his long gun swinging towards Woods. The two stared at each other, fingers over the triggers and neither moving—not even blinking. Bell frowned and walked up to the two. "Woods? Alexei?" She patted Woods' arm but got no reaction. "Woods...?"

For a second, Woods' body flashed with cuts and bruises, blood trickling from his hairline. A few more blinks and she was in the backseat of a car. In the driver and passenger seats sat two figures. Curiosity got the better of her and she leaned forwards to look at the driver.

Her mother's naked corpse lay there.

Pain ripped through her chest and she backed off, whimpering. A glance down at herself showed her nothing but red staining her clothes from her heart. Somewhere in the distance, a pistol clicked.

Bell wailed, moving to cover her eyes but stopped when she watched blood drip off her fingers. She tried to shake it off. It wouldn't stop pouring. She blinked, and she was back in the room with Alexei and Woods, who were still pointing their weapons at each other.

Woods suddenly blinked. "Shit!" He hissed and lowered his weapon, Alexei laughing and saying something that made the two giggle.

Whatever it was, it wasn't funny. Bell reached for Woods wanting a hug only for a jolt of electricity to shoot through her. She couldn't even scream. Her life faded before her eyes and disappeared into darkness.

When she woke, she was on the floor, Woods and Alexei over her. Everything hurt. Someone planted a bomb in her head and it wanted to explode. Breathing didn't come easy, but neither did hearing or seeing. And yet, despite her exhaustion, she found the energy to cry.

Alexei picked her up and held her against his chest, though Bell hated the way it felt. He wasn't doing it right. Bell kicked him lightly, trying to adjust herself and tell him what her mouth and tongue couldn't form. He finally handed her over to Woods, but Woods didn't do it right either, more concerned about keeping her sobs quiet than her comfort.

Then again, that's what Papa would do...

_'I want Uncle Russell...'_

The two men talked back and forth over the comms with Park and finally popped the capsule at her hip, placing a pill in her mouth. They asked her to sit it under her tongue and it kinda just bubbled up and disappeared.

Woods took out his earpiece and set it in Bell's ear. _"Bell, you okay?"_ Uncle Russell's voice cracked through the light static.

Tears stung her eyes and she held onto Woods tighter. "It hurts..." Her throat practically ripped open with her words.

It took him a second to reply. _"I know, kiddo. You're almost there. All you have to do is make it across the building with Woods and Mason."_

"I want you..."

_"You can do this, Rybka. Just get those codes and get out. Got it?"_

She didn't want to. And yet, she forced out a little "Mm-hmm."

_"That a girl. Samolet, Vertolet, and I will be waiting for you. Can you give the radio back?"_

She nodded and took the earpiece away, Woods replacing it in his own ear after rubbing it between his fingers. He chatted with Uncle Russell for a bit while Alexei locked the guard door and began stripping some of his equipment.

Woods set her on Alexei's back, then helped pack Alexei's gear back on him, and whatever they couldn't fit on he took himself. Bell rested her head on Alexei's shoulder, watching.

Woods handed Bell her pistol and the camera "Тыготов?" He asked. "You ready?" She nodded and shifted so she could look around as they finally moved deeper into the building.

Down the stairs they went, overlooking a group of guards telling jokes to one another. Woods slipped down to the lower floor while Alexei popped a grenade. He tossed it between the Soviets, then ducked behind cover as the grenade snapped alive. When he stood up, the guards were a mess of flailing limbs. Alexei jumped the fence and joined Woods in stabbing some necks, amusing the little girl.

"God, Mason," Woods huffed. "__ _______! ___ ____ _ _____!"

Alexei scoffed. "____ ____ ___ ___ ____?" He elbowed Woods. "____ ____, dumbass."

Whatever they were talking about, their tone of voice made her smile. And especially the dumbass part.

Woods remained in the hall while Alexei cleared the rooms down the hall, giving Bell time to take pictures of whatever seemed interesting (including Woods and the back of Alexei's head) and providing a rather comfortable piggyback ride for her. He only stopped to let Woods catch up when they reached the end; a dangerously skinny hall with no room for escape if something happened. Woods and Alexei went back to back, Woods leading while Alexei walked backward. Bell twisted back and forth, trying to see what both were doing at the same time.

They reached the end of the hall and Woods and Alexei nodded. Then Woods spoke to her. "Be ready, could be a thousand reds on the other side of this door." Alexei set himself up to shoot, and Bell rested her pistol over his shoulder. Woods scanned a keycard he got from who-knows-where and cracked open the door.

A woman stood just beyond the doorway. Alexei lowered his gun but Woods charged. He tackled the woman and wound up for a full-throttle punch with his weapon.

And then he stopped.

The giggles from Bell and Alexei probably could have alerted the entire Soviet Union. "Bell, картинка!" Alexei snickered and Bell drew the camera.

"Fuck you both," Woods hissed as he got up, but not fast enough. She already had the picture.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mason--I mean Alexei--is getting bonus dad xp with Bell. David is jealous. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a kudos and comment! Or don't. Up to you.


	5. Her Past Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge shoutout to plastromeme (Tumblr: lvexpart) for not one, but TWO beautiful art pieces of Bell. Thank you so much for making my week and helping motivate me to get this chapter out! I’m still as flattered today as I was when I first saw them. 
> 
> Warnings: Explosions, lots of explosions, am I Michael Bay???, death, lots of death, implied suicide, injuries, hallucinations, mild sexism, also blood, some stuff acts buffed others act nerfed, #CODLogic

Thanks again plastromeme/lvexpart!

* * *

"The hell..."

The three peered out a window, studying the funky little prop hunt town outside. The most notable feature was the giant helicopter hanging from the ceiling (Bell's personal favorite prop). Flashing signs and lights lined each of the prop buildings. A purple hue settled upon the town, making it feel homey despite its busy characteristic with pretty cars scattered around on the streets and mannequins waiting to be attacked.

Woods and Alexei passed a few words back and forth before Woods switched to Russian. "Bell, take a picture." Bell raised the camera and pressed the little button thing, but the camera didn't make its signature snapping sound. She handed it to Alexei for help, who checked it then handed it to Woods. "You ran out of film," Woods grumbled. "Fuck!"

"Woods!" Alexei hissed. Woods shot back some angry English words, Bell struggling to recognize anything beyond 'fucking' and 'USA' (and Alexei scolding Woods again for swearing). She gave up quickly and inspected one of the boxy things with buttons. She had seen a boxy thing in the safehouse behind a locked cage, but Uncle Russell wouldn't let her go back there, saying only adults were allowed. Curiosity won her over, so she reached out and pressed one of the buttons, making the screen light up with some text.

**ACTIVISION**

Whatever that meant.

The boxy thing erupted into loud music as a little red guy on sticks appeared in the middle of the screen with various trees spread about. Suddenly terrified, Bell hid her face into Alexei's back as he and Woods stared to look at the box. "Bell..." Alexei sighed.

The music was no match for the alarms that blared through the building. A voice accompanied the alarm. "ALL PERSONNEL, PLEASE CLEAR THE COURSE. ALL PERSONNEL, PLEASE CLEAR THE COURSE!" Parts of the walls opened up and armored soldiers ran into the prop hunt town, guns leading.

"GRU! Woods! Alexei! Look—eek!" Bell nearly fell off Alexei as he and Woods bolted for the exit, Woods pausing to scan the keycard. "Where we going?" She asked while the two ran up the stairs. Neither answered her, taking cover behind large objects on the overlook. From here, Bell could see the Spetsnaz GRU circling the area below them, preparing for an attack.

"What's—" Bell started, only for Alexei to cover her mouth with his hand.

"Stay quiet," Woods told her. "We can't risk being seen by these bastards."

"Bastards? But GRU are nice," she said.

"Not to us. They wanna kill us."

Oh.

The two adults crept along the overlook and outside to a prop rooftop, Bell keeping her head low against Alexei's back. They descended a ladder into the streets and found shadows to tuck themselves in as the Spetsnaz GRU moved past them. Once the Spetsnaz passed, the three crossed the street, Woods going first and making it all the way to the other end. Alexei and Bell got stopped behind a giant clown prop while more Spetsnaz passed by. Meanwhile, Bell became distracted by the giant red button on the clown's side. She couldn't reach down low enough but her foot could, and so she kicked it.

"____ ___ _____ ___ _____ burger??"

Bell burst into giggles, completely amused by the silly voice. Plus, burger! Burgers were the best, especially the ones Uncle Russell made!

Unfortunately, Alexei didn't want a burger. "What the hell, Bell?!" He snapped, ruining her mood.

"I want a burg—" her words got cut off by bullets whizzing past them. Alexei bolted to the nearest building where Woods was hiding behind a bar counter.

"Fucking ____!" Woods yelled, and when Alexei didn't scold him, it had to be bad. Alexei worked her arms away from his neck and pushed her down to her knees."Why did you do that!?" Woods demanded.

"I'm sorry..." Bell whimpered. When Woods only scowled and Alexei made no move to defend her, her heart sank farther _. 'Buttons are evil,'_ sheconcluded.

"Park! __ ___ _ _______!" Woods shouted as Alexei shot a hole through the counter with his pistol where he could peer through. Bell tried to peek over the edge of the counter. A shiver ran up her spine and spread into her chest, warning her of danger. She flinched away from the approaching outstretched hand, but not quick enough that she avoided Woods' fingers. He shoved her to the ground, making her breath lock up and her heart skip a beat. "Stay down! This is your mess but you can't die in it! Adler would kill me faster than these fucking Spetsnaz."

Bell crawled to the other side of Alexei to put some distance between her and Woods. The two men chatted back and forth before Woods drew a grenade from his belt and Alexei picked her up. "NOW!" Woods yelled. Alexei swung himself back over the bar counter and ran across the street, one hand firing his weapon as he ran by. He dove behind a car as the grenade went off, scattering shards of itself everywhere and sending a couple Spetsnaz flying. He got back up and found a spot on the other side of the street near some stairs where he dropped Bell and sprayed bullets about so Woods could run across. The two wiped out the rest of the approaching Spetsnaz.

Woods and Alexei passed more words back and forth before Woods translated. "Let's go before they send an elite squad after us. We're lucky these guys were starting rookies." And so they went up the stairs and to a catwalk that overlooked a pit on the other side. Something about the pit didn't feel right, though Bell couldn't name what. Probably that dark door off to the side. She liked it even less as Woods jumped back down.

She grabbed on to the railing as Alexei tried to pick her up, refusing to let her feet off the ground. "Bell, ____ __," Alexei grumbled and tried again. No, she would not go down there yet. Not until Woods cleared it out.

Ping!

"Grenade!" Woods yelled, bolting for cover. The grenade went off before he made it far, knocking him to his feet. From the dark door, a giant man covered with heavy armor walked out. 

"Woods!" Alexei opened fire. He only fired a few rounds before stopping, eyes wide with fear as he realized his bullets refused to penetrate the armor.

"Who's that?" Bell asked.

"Ajuggernaut," Alexei replied. The armored man turned towards the two of them. Alexei scooped up Bell and jumped the railing to the opposite side of the wall from Woods as the ajuggernaut's fired his giant gun, bullets chewing apart the catwalk. He landed poorly and crashed to the ground, Bell toppling from his grasp.

Alexei was on his feet long before her. "Woods, ____ __ __!" He said over the comms. Whatever Woods replied, it made Alexei's teeth grit. He rammed his fist into a nearby prop building's wall and started talking to his imaginary friend as Bell heard Woods scream. Alexei's eyes locked onto a dead guy's big long gun and he picked it up.

Bell's eyes lit up. "Oooh! Снайперская винтовка!" And a pretty sniper rifle too! She followed Alexei up the stairs, where he set the sniper rifle against the stairs so the long nose of the gun hardly reached over the wall. From here, she watched Woods run in circles like a headless chicken, shooting aimlessly as the ajuggernaut tore apart his last few places of cover.

"Can I help, Alexei?" She asked.

"Hush," was all he said.

Woods gun jammed and he swore loudly before tripping over rubble and face planting on top of his rifle. The ajuggernaut stopped shooting to get a better angle on Woods.

Bell jumped to her feet and aimed her pistol. "HEY, YOU BIG JERK! LEAVE HIM ALONE!!" She fired a few shots, making the ajuggernaut pause in his step.

And then the sniper cracked alive.

Bell yelped. A gaping hole sat in the ajuggernaut's chest. He fell over and Alexei let out a heavy breath. Meanwhile, Bell felt she may throw up as she stared at the gaping hole. She hid against Alexei's side as he stood up, leaving the sniper on the stairs but removing the mag. He picked her up and jumped down into the pit, setting her on the ground so he could check out Woods. The two chatted for a while as Bell kept her eyes away from the fallen ajuggernaut. And when Woods was ready, Alexei helped him up and the three moved to the elevator, clearing out the last of the guards that waited at the top for them.

The three pushed into the control tower. Alexei turned to her and pointed to one of the computers. "Bell, __ ___ _____ ________ ___ ____ __ ____ _____?"

"He asked if you still remember the code to this place," Woods translated as he and Alexei watched the doors.

Bell nodded. She trotted up to the computer, then had to slide a chair over, being too short to see. Her excitement to see didn't last long when she realized she had to actually read something. Even worse, there were choices. "Woods, help me," Bell said.

"I thought you were the master codebreaker," he said.

"I can't read."

Woods frowned. "How the hell..." He left the door and lowered his rifle, leaning down to look over her shoulder. "Why is this in English? Aren't these Soviet computers?"

"What do I click?"

"Uh... let's see, Tactical Urban Combat Statistics, KGB Updates, Operation Greenlight—what's Operation Greenlight?" He pointed to the option and she picked it. The computer flashed a warning. "Great. A password. You're up, kiddo."

She nodded and glanced around the computer until she found a model number. Then she closed her eyes. She ran her hands across the keyboard, feeling the uniqueness of each key. The code list appeared in her head and began to spin slowly, picking up speed as it went down. Faster and faster it churned, scanning the list. The computer's number floated around in her head, searching for its twin on the list.

The list came to a halt. The computer's number found its twin and the code that went along with it.

436028С397342В

Her eyes snapped open and she punched in the passcode, gaining access to various files and earning a pat on the head from Woods. His smile disappeared as he read to himself. "This doesn't make any sense...! Mason! ____ ____ ____!"

"Wait! What does it say?" But Woods was already switching spots with Alexei, who frowned as he read it. Alexei pointed to a file just above it and she clicked on it. Oh. Two guys talking English. Boring to her. Enraging to Woods and Alexei.

"Bell, _____ ___ ___," Alexei commanded.

"He said print it off," Woods translated.

"What's that mean?"

Woods and Alexei switched again. "That button right there," Woods said as he pointed to a number. And so she clicked it.

A machine against the wall made funny noises as it threw up some paper, which Woods folded up and stuck in his pocket. "What's it say?" She asked again timidly, not liking Woods and Alexei's energy.

Woods translated. "It says Perseus infiltrated a CIA nuke program code-named Operation Greenlight. Run by Hudson!" He kicked another computer, making it spasm and start playing Tetris by itself. "The stolen nuke is American! And Hudson fucking knew!"

"Woods, stop ________," Alexei grumbled, moving next to Bell.

"Who's Hudson?" Bell wondered.

Her question wasn't answered. A second set of alarms blared through the building. The same voice from before spoke over the sirens. "FACILITY LOCKDOWN IN PROCESS! ALL UNITS, PROCEED AS INSTRUCTED!"

"____ __ __ !" Woods yelled, taking the lead. "Park! ___'__ ___ _____ _______ ____!" Alexei grabbed Bell by the wrist and pulled her out of the seat. He dragged her along until she found her stride, then matched her pace and dropped behind her. The three turned onto an open catwalk, right in the line of fire.

Machine guns roared, smashing the wooden props around them. A bullet whizzing by her face and her eyes somehow able to watch it snap a loose strand of hair in two. Bell screamed and threw herself to the ground...

Right in front of Alexei. His foot caught her side and he flipped over her, crashing to the ground. His fat gun's end caught the ground and smacked him in the face. Something broke above her head. A wooden pillar smashed between the two, knocking a large wooden prop onto Alexei's arm.

"Ffff--ahhhhhh!!!" Alexei screamed.

More rubble fell, blocking the hallway. Bell lay down to peer through a tiny gap under the pillar. Alexei was trying to pull his arm out from under the prop. Beyond him, Woods found a safe spot behind a concrete wall. "Mason! Bell!" Woods called.

"Woods!" Bell yelled back. "Woods, жди меня! Wait for me!"

"Bell! Go back to the control tower! We'll come and save you!"

"But I'm scared!"

"Trust me, kiddo! I'm not leaving without you! Now go!"

"I don't wanna!"

"Just do it!" Woods snapped, making her flinch. Biting her tongue, she obeyed, crawling away from the open windows and to where she could stand and walk. She returned to the tower, Woods' angry voice looping in her head.

She hid in a corner, hugging her knees and holding her pistol. This may be bigger than her room back home but the cold was the same. Part of her wanted to cry for help, but exhaustion and loneliness won and she hugged her knees and rocked.

_'I want Uncle Russell...'_

Her eyes locked on the clock on the wall and remained there. Half an hour passed. Woods and Alexei still hadn't come.

Well, might as well do something...

She climbed back onto the computer, tapping in the password. This time, she chose the second option (KGB something, she couldn't remember). Unlike the Greenlight option, this option had a lot of little things to click on. And so, she skimmed the list, picking random things to click on and looking for anything interesting. If they had pictures, bonus.

One tab caught her eye: Чиков. Not that she knew what that said, she just recognized the order of the letters. She clicked on it. Ugh, more options. She chose the first one.

_"There's been an issue."_

Oh yay! An audio file in Russian!

 _"What issue?"_ Her father's voice said, making her smile.

 _"There was an attack at Trabzon,"_ the accented voice continued. _"Kadivar is dead. The MİT sent an inspection team and determined it was a remote bomb attack."_

_"I see... any survivors?"_

_"Negative. All bodies have been checked, but only a handful ID'd. The rest are too mutilated to be identified."_

_"And my daughter?"_

_"Presumed dead. No hard confirmation yet."_

The audio ended. Bell frowned. She was very much alive, thank you very much. She poked on a few more options but they were all readings. So she picked one that said Чиков — послание and printed it. She'd ask Uncle Russell later. The machine threw up the paper and she folded the paper into a little envelope. Mitya called it origami. Papa called it unnecessary time-consuming paper crushing.

Her ears picked up on some odd noise. Footsteps. Too many of them to be Woods and Alexei. Bell dove behind a terminal and drew her pistol. What felt like an hour passed as the steps entered the room quietly, but not quiet enough for her to think she was safe. A peek towards the wall revealed the shadow of the people.

Spetsnaz.

Would they kill her like Woods said?

 _'Let's go before they send an elite squad after us,'_ Woods' voice echoed in her head.

 _'Stay unarmed,'_ Her mother's voice joined. Bell slipped her pistol back into its spot on her hip and hugged her knees as the footsteps circled her.

A light shined in her eyes. Bell whimpered and held a hand up to try and save herself from the light. She didn't see the one Spetsnaz rush forwards until they threw her to the ground and yanked her arm back. Bell tried to scream but a hand went over her mouth. "Be quiet," a woman's voice hissed. And so she fell silent.

It felt like forever before the woman Spetsnaz finally handcuffed her and let her up. In the corner of the room, a second Spetsnaz had her pistol and knife, and another held her pouch off to the distance. A fourth approached her. "The hell are you doing here, kid?" He asked. She didn't respond. He pointed his Kalash at her forehead. "You better start talking or I'll drop you right here."

"Easy, Polkovnik," the woman said. "She might be wearing American gear but she's one of us."

Bell felt tears coming to her eyes. This feeling of being held at gunpoint... it wasn't new. And yet, it felt like the first time all over again. The only difference was the speed of recovery from the shock and the control of her tears as she listened to the Polkovnik talk. "American, Russian, spies know no difference." He stepped away from her to turn to the group of Spetsnaz scattered in the room. "Sidorovich, Charon, Strelok, Sakharov, Svintsov, Dzyubin, I want you six to move down the hall and check for any traps the Americans have left. The rest of you, search this room again." The group began to move but the head Spetsnaz stopped the female operator. "Nanci, take care of the kid."

"Why me, Polkovnik?" the woman hugged. "And it's Nastya or Razumovskaya."

"Because you're the woman. And I don't tolerate that disrespect. Learn your place or I'll drop you and her."

Razumovskaya sighed heavily but stayed by Bell, weapon pointed. Bell's eyes landed on Razumovskaya's chest where a grenade sat. Maybe she could slip that off and blow up the room...

She gave a loud whine. "What do you want, солнышко?" Razumovskaya asked. Ew. Sunshine. She hated that nickname.

"I don't like my hands tied..."

"Sorry, it's protocol."

"I want a hug."

"Be quiet."

"I'm lonely..."

"I said be quiet." She kicked Bell, who flopped to her side, wincing and moving her arm to protect her stinging ribs. The room went silent as she began to think about the long days locked away from the sun, staring at the door from her side and wondering if it was warm outside.

She blinked. The cold room was gone and she was back with the Spetsnaz. The one holding her pouch spoke up, the pill container between his thumb and first finger. "Hey, kid! Whatcha got in here?"

"I dunno..." Bell responded.

"You're the one carrying it. You forget or something? Should you take it to find out?" She couldn't see his mouth but she was pretty sure he was smiling as he said so. Not entertained, she remained silent, seeing his face go dark when he realized his joke failed. "Stupid child."

"Ivanovich, be nice," The Spetsnaz at the terminal said.

"What? She's a kid! She's too stupid to know any better. Ай, Vanya!" He held it out to the Spetsnaz looking at her gun. "You're the medic. Tell me what this is."

"It's aspirin," Vanya replied.

Ivanovich glanced over at her. "It's an aspirin. The hell do you need aspirin for?"

She shrugged. "Моя папа gave it to me."

"And what's your Papa's name?"

"I dunno," Bell responded. "I just call him Papa." That earned a few snickers from some Spetsnaz and eye rolls from others.

Ivanovich put the pill back in the capsule and flipped it through his fingers. "Sounds like American propaganda. Here's a deal: I'll be nice to you when you swear yourself to the Motherland." Bell didn't respond. "Your loss."

The room fell silent except for the one Spetsnaz sitting at the terminal clicking away at the keyboard. "What the fuck is Operation Greenlight?" He finally muttered, catching the others' attention.

"You tell me, Kostya," the Polkovnik said. "You're the one on the terminal." Kostya shook his head but said nothing.

Bell rolled on the floor, thinking, and wondering if she could make something happen in her favor. Should she throw a fit? Nah, no one would take pity on her. Or Razumovskaya would shoot her _. 'I wish Uncle Russell or Woods or Alexei was here... what would they do..? Probably something really badass.'_

Kostya spoke up. "Sir, I think she broke into this terminal."

"Bullshit, no child is that smart." The Polkovnik hissed.

"Well, I'm looking at the log and it was accessed just shortly before we arrived." He looked over at Bell. "I'd like to see if she actually broke in, sir."

"She's a liability. She's not worth our time."

"But she's a kid!"

"And this is war," He said. "For all we know, this child could be the reason we lost so many men today."

"I know about Operation Greenlight," Bell piped up, then whimpered when Razumovskaya kicked her again.

The Polkovnik glanced at her. "Kostya, cross reference what she says with those files." He walked over to Bell and stood before her. "Tell us what you know."

"It's a CIA nuke program codenamed Operation Greenlight run by someone named Hudson." They waited for her to say more. "That's all I know."

"Well then, she's fucking useless," Razumovskaya said.

"How do you know that?" Kostya piped up.

Bell nodded towards the terminal. "It told me."

"So you broke into this?"

"Да."

"We'll see about that," the Polkovnik said. He pushed past Razumovskaya and grabbed Bell, removing the handcuffs. "Shut down the terminal, Kostya. And you, child. Pull up everything about Greenlight."

Bell went to the terminal as Kostya slid his chair over to give her space, then put her on the seat when he realized she couldn't reach. She typed in the password and remembered exactly where she went to find information about Greenlight.

"Read it," the captain demanded, holding his pistol near her head.

Bell squinted at the screen. The little ants called letters began crawling across the screen, speeding up until they ran laps around the screen. The pistol against her head remained cold but the rest of her body heated up as she braced herself for bullet impact, expecting it to be nothing worse than being hit with a wiffleball.

Still, she tried to read. "Ch...ch...i...chicken... b...beef... sssssstew... uh-no, ah... ah-vah...avocado... is... g-goo... guten tag... stroganoff."

"I don't think she can actually read..." Vanya muttered.

"Bullshit, she's trying to get out of it," Ivanovich said.

Bell scrambled for the keyboard, remembering which files had the audio ones. She clicked on one and played it, knowing that it was the right one when she heard the two voices that made Woods and Alexei mad.

"Well I'll be damned..." the Polkovnik removed his pistol. "A prodigy. Brezhnev will want to hear about this. She'll be a valuable asset to the survival of the motherland."

"Can I go back to Razumovskaya?" Bell asked.

"Look at that: the 7-year-old kid respects me more than an adult," Razumovskaya said coldly. "She might be my new favorite person."

That must be a good thing, right? Bell ducked under the pistol and wandered over to Razumovskaya. She reached up, hoping the woman would hold her. Instead she got hit in the face with the end of Razumovskaya's Kalash. "Stay on the ground."

"Little one, come here," Kostya called. Bell obeyed, noting that he too had a grenade on his chest. He set her on his knee and let her watch him scan through files, though she soon became distracted by his arm patch.

"Are you a praporshchik?"

"I am." He continued to poke through the terminal. Bell adjusted herself to look at the shoulder patch closer, slipping the grenade away. She hugged herself to hide it.

The Spetsnazs' radios crackled. _"Polkovnik! We need backup!"_ A frantic voice cried over the sound of shooting in the background.

The Polkovnik frowned. "Charon, what's your status?"

_"It's the Americans! They're fucking insane!"_

"How many?"

 _"Just two! Send another team imme--"_ The radio died.

"Charon?" the Polkovnik asked. "Charon, talk to me." But when no answer came, he huffed. "I want everyone to spread out in this room immediately. Cover all possible entrances. These Americans are not coming here."

"Есть!" The Spetsnaz scattered about.

Kostya set her on the seat, locking the computer before readying his weapon "I'm scared," Bell said.

"You'll be safe," he said as the Polkovnik ordered Vanya and a few others to search the hall for the Americans.

Hardly a minute passed before the group heard shooting and Vanya called for backup over the radio _. "Charon was right! These Americans are crazy!"_

"They're after the child!" Razumovskaya said. "Permission to drop her now!"

"Нет!" The Polkovnik grabbed Bell off the chair and held a pistol to her head. Bell cupped the grenade in one hand, keeping it out of sight against her side. "We'll make use of their desperation."

No one moved. What felt like another hour passed before she heard Woods' voice on the other side of the wall. "Campers!"

"Ivanovich, translate to these Americans for me," the Polkovnik said. He then put on a grand speech. "Americans! We know you're after the child! Put your weapons down and surrender yourselves, and if the Motherland finds you worthy, the child is yours!"

"You're fucked in the head, no offense, Polkovnik," Kostya muttered as Ivanovich translated the speech.

"Nah," Woods called back. "We kinda just want the kid. Long live the Soviet Union in Hell."

Bell slipped her hands behind her back and pulled the pin. She brought the grenade in front of her. Then she popped the lever and let it fall to the floor as she threw the grenade to the middle of the room.

"What the—?" The Polkovnik said.

Bell smiled up to him. "Oops."

Ivanovich reacted and jumped for the grenade. "For the Motherland!" He whooped, landing on the grenade as it went off. Spetsnaz screamed and bodies flew in various directions. Bell hit the wall and dropped to her back to the ground. Something hard struck her leg. A heavy weight landed on her, crushing her.

She lay there for a while, hardly able to breathe and somewhat curious if she would die. And then she saw Uncle Russell approaching her _. "Over here! We got a live one!"_ Something tolled in the distance. Her memory flashed with images of him carrying her through various halls. And suddenly she was in a laboratory, bright lights scorching her eyes. The smell of something gross pumped through her nose from a little white cup on her face. Another blink and Uncle Russell stood over her, his hands on her chest. Fear lined his uncovered eyes as his voice echoed through her head _. "Come on, Rybka! Breathe!"_

And then she went back to reality.

Bell rammed her hands into the body's side and pushed. Her legs found room to move and she tried hooking one foot against the body to help. No such luck. "Motherfucker..." she hissed as she heard a string of gunshots echo off the wall. A glance to her side revealed the few capable Spetsnaz in a firefight through the door. She continued to try and push the body off her but remained unsuccessful. And when her vision started to cave from exhaustion, she gave up.

A hand reached across her chest to the body's shoulder. And suddenly she was free. New air flowed to her lungs, making her choke as she turned to see her savior.

"You okay?" Kostya gasped, laying on the ground with blood trickling from his forehead. Bell nodded. "Good..." he reached for his rifle, squeezing his eyes and grunting.

Woods and Alexei stormed in, finishing off the last of the still capable Spetsnaz. They began to shoot a bullet in everyone's head. "Bell!" Woods yelled and walked towards her.

Kostya rolled over and tried to get his rifle out to shoot but it wasn't fast enough. Woods swung his leg and kicked it away. He aimed for Kostya's head.

"No!" Bell wailed. She pushed herself up, though it did little for her headache and she collapsed again. "Don't shoot him!"

"Give me one reason why or I'll shoot this fucker in the chest," Woods said.

"He was nice to me!"

"Not a good reason."

"Please, Woods?" She tried to get up again. Her side roared with pain and she hit the ground again. Why did it hurt so much!?

Alexei finished shooting the others. He walked over and aimed for Kostya but Woods stopped him. The two chatted back and forth shortly before Woods turned his attention to the Spetsnaz. "The hell you plan on doing with her?" He asked.

Kostya glared up at him. "Take her back to her parents..."

"Too bad. That's my job," Woods responded.

"On what grounds?"

"I am her guardian," Woods beamed.

"You?" Kostya huffed. "What relation?"

"I'm her weird second-removed maternal British uncle."

"You're not British."

Woods hesitated. Then he said, "G'day mate! Top of the mornin' to ya!"

Alexei facepalmed.

Woods kicked Kostya's head and knocked him out. He and Alexei locked hands together and poked each other's thumbs until Alexei trapped Woods' thumb under his, smirking as he picked up Bell and hoisted her on his back.

"Wait, get my pistol and knife," Bell said. She pointed to the Spetsnaz who still had it on his gear. Alexei took it off and handed them to Woods, who slipped them into her holster and sheath.

They ran down the stairs past a bunch of dead bodies. Apparently, Woods and Alexei did work while she was gone. Everyone was dead. It was a smooth walk through bodies all the way down to the streets.

That all came to an end when they were in the streets and a sole ajuggernaut appeared. "Ah shit," Wood said and Alexei didn't call on him.

The ajuggernaut opened fire. Alexei and Woods split up, Woods shooting back to pull the attention towards him while Alexei ran for the four-wheeled truck with a giant gun on top. He scrambled up the side, loosening Bell's hands away from his neck and moved her to his chest. "____ ____ ____ ____," he instructed as he slid into the seat of the giant gun and set her on his lap. He gripped the handles to the giant gun. Then he opened fire. Bell covered her ears as Alexei tore apart the landscape and the second ajuggernaut, saving Woods a second time.

Woods scampered up to them. "Alexei, _ _____ ____ ___ _____ ___."

"_____, _____," Alexei said with a stupid little smile.

Woods rounded the tank. "Bell, stay with Mason. Help him shoot our way out."

"But I don't know how to shoot!"She protested. "I can drive, though."

"You can drive a tank?"

"In theory."

Woods shook his head and swung into the driver's seat. He got the machine started up and began cruising along the streets. It wasn't long before they ran into a final force attempting to stop their escape. Alexei was on top of it, shooting the giant gun as Bell clung on, Woods' driving making her feel a little sick.

She didn't remember a lot more, the pain from her side finally settling in. Her vision drifted in and out as she felt her grip on reality slipping. She remembered they stopped somewhere and got into a jeep with Sims and Lazar. Beyond that, she only recalled Sims letting her curl up in his lap before she fell asleep.

* * *

As the 0100 hour settled in, Adler handed Park another cigarette, who gratefully took it. He settled his own roll between his lips and took a long drag, enjoying his last few minutes of peace. Sims called saying the group finally arrived at the airport, but that was a half-hour ago, leading Adler to believe they ran into a long security line, something happened to them, or they got lost. No matter. Hudson's jet wasn't going anywhere without them.

He glanced down at his hand, which held Samolet and Vertolet. Clearly, Mason's a dad; he knew how to find really cute toys. Given how much Bell loved them, Adler wouldn't be surprised if she grew up to be a pilot.

Park waved her hand before him, finally deciding now seemed like a good time to hold a conversation. Adler motioned for her to come closer and she slid along the wooden bench until they were nearly touching shoulders. "Can you hear any better?" She asked.

"If I did, I wouldn't ask you to practically sit on me."

"What, you don't like people sitting on you?" She said slyly. When Adler refused to respond, she took another puff and switched topics. "Are you okay?"

"Do I look like I'm okay?"

"You do. But I know deep inside, you're thinking about Bell."

He shrugged. "Hard to not think about her when I just sent a seven-year-old onto the battlefield all because she can find answers a little faster than me. Next thing I hear, she's had a seizure, is held hostage, and nearly kills herself with a grenade."

"But she's alive. That we can be thankful for." She and Adler synced their next drag. "Besides, she dug up one of Perseus' motives. Now, we can focus on our next step."

"Yeah," was all Adler could say as he fiddled with Vertolet's main rotor. No wonder Bell liked this toy so much.

It suddenly dawned on him Park was watching. He quickly stopped spinning the rotor. She said nothing about it and continued the conversation. "Why do you spend so much energy in Bell? From day one, you've acted differently with her than other Guinea pigs. You've been adamant about her being in good health, even pulling her back from the brink of malnourishment."

"Chalk it up to guilt."

"Guilt?"

"I'll explain one day if I feel like it."

She sighed. "Of course you will." They took another puff together. "And returning her home? You aren't going to leave Perseus alive, are you?"

"Obviously not."

"And Bell?"

"I'll kill her with him." The words left a bad taste in his mouth.

"How sweet; a daughter and father dying together."

Adler nodded, though his heart didn't join. Now was his turn to change topics. "Hudson had us relocated."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Little place outside of Berlin. Not where I would have wanted but we can get away from everything. He said he stocked it with food already."

"Excellent. Lazar, Sims, and I will drive back to the hotel to collect our belongings and then prepare dinner at the new house. You'll have your hands full bringing Woods, Mason, and Bell to the hospital." She paused before saying, "If you'd like, I can get your things."

"That would be great. Send Lazar in. He knows what he's looking for." Adler handed her the key to his room. "141."

"Of course." Park glanced behind her. "Speak of the devil."

Adler turned to see Sims carrying Bell on his shoulders and her laughing. Mason's arm was in a sling while Woods used Lazar for support.

Sims said something and Bell looked up. "DYADYA!!!" She screeched so loudly Adler could hear it. So could every person in the entire terminal hall, who glanced over to see the squirming child. Adler got up and walked towards the team, relieved that they at least looked lively. As for Bell, she practically threw herself off Sims and limped to him, bursting into sobs on the way. He scooped her up and hugged her. "I missed you!" She wailed.

"I missed you, too," he said. He handed her Samolet and Vertolet. "You did it, Rybka," Adler hummed. "You did great out there." She smiled brightly as she continued to cry against him, clinging to him with one arm while the other arm cradled her aviation toys.

She fell asleep on the flight, allowing Adler and Sims to throw together their medical knowledge and remove as many shrapnels as they could from her side. They did the same for Woods, who received them along his leg. Park dealt with the splinters in Mason's arm then set his arm on some frozen corn she found in the back. No one asked how long the corn had been there. After they deboarded, Adler met up with agents from the BND who offered further, off-the-record medical support for the three. So by the time they were actually heading to the new home, the first signs of dawn peeked over the hills

Woods, Mason, and Bell slept while Adler drove, listening to a cassette tape. Mason woke soon after and when he and Adler started talking, Woods woke up. Bell remained fast asleep while Woods lit a cigarette for Adler.

"So," Adler started. "Which one of you gave her the grenade?"

"Mason did," Woods said.

Mason stared at him. "I did not! It had to be you!"

"You think I would give her an M67!?" Woods shot back.

"Enough," Adler hummed. "If neither of you can answer that question, then you didn't give it to her. It's simple."

He heard a metal clinking and his body froze, one foot hovering between the two pedals. Did someone just throw a grenade?

"Shit," Mason whispered, too quiet to be of alarm.

"What?" Inside, Adler took a sigh of relief.

"She dropped one of her bullets." Mason tried leaning over her in hopes of seeing it in the dim light. "Woods, help me."

"No, you blamed me for endangering a child."

"Woods, come on!"

"Stop it. We'll deal with it in a bit," Adler said. "In the meantime..." he made one final turn and Hudson was in view. Mason and Woods quickly remembered who they were angrier with and joined forces together.

The three got out of the car, Woods charging while Mason made the time to shut the car door, and Adler did one final check on the sleeping Bell. When he turned his attention back to Woods and Hudson, he let out a heavy sigh. Of course Hudson found a way to hold Woods at gunpoint.

"Everybody stand down," Adler said, closing the driver's door. Bell didn't wake. "This little pissing match isn't gonna help us catch Perseus." Obediently, Woods backed off but didn't go far, helping Mason surround Hudson.

"Why didn't you tell us it was an American nuke?" Mason roared.

"He needed us to clean up his mess. The bastard's been lying to us all along!" Woods hissed.

"It's not a lie," Hudson said proudly. "It's an omission of fact."

Mason's eyes flashed that odd color it did sometimes when he talked to his imaginary friend. "That's what you do best, isn't it, Hudson?" He snarled. "Manipulate people...tell them your own version of the truth."

Now Hudson got defensive. "There is no truth. Only who you choose to believe." Woods opened his mouth to speak but Hudson cut him off. "Adler knows all about that." And Hudson wore a near-smirk on his face as he added, "Don't you, Russ?"

The nickname echoed through Adler's ears, bringing about a headache. That fucking nickname. Four letters that took his entire childhood away. He hadn't heard that name in 27 years and it still boiled anger inside him. Maybe he'd let Woods beat up Hudson. But instead, he pushed for information on Greenlight, soon wishing he didn't toss his cigarette so early.

Hudson's explanation did nothing to settle the team down. "So..." Adler started, pleased that his voice remained decently calm. "There's an American-made nuke in the wild and one Perseus detonates it... The United States becomes global enemy number one." _'And it never occurred to you to heavily guard the nukes? Or spread fewer around so you could keep a better eye on them?'_

Somehow, he managed to piss Hudson off more. "We wouldn't have this problem if you'd done your job and killed Perseus in Vietnam! We'd be farther along our path if you had just killed the kid as well."

Woods charged again. Adler didn't plan to stop him if it wasn't for the sound of the car door popping open. He shot his hand up and Woods ran into it, sliding to a halt. "Careful, Hudson," Adler growled, keeping his voice low. "Next time... I might not stop Woods." With that, the group broke up.

Woods and Mason went inside while Adler turned around to see Bell topple out of the car. He helped her up as she sleepily complained. "Dyadya, I can't find Volk."

"Volk fell down under the seat. We'll find him tomorrow."

"But I want Volk now!" She wailed, rubbing her eyes.

"He'll be okay for one night," Adler said, picking her up. "You need to eat and go to bed." Bell continued to complain and kick him as he carried her in, quieting down when they got inside. Her eyes locked on Hudson and she hid against Adler's chest similar to how she did so with Woods and Mason. "Don't worry about him," Adler said, making sure she didn't catch his anger.

Sims had made spaghetti, complete with tea from Lazar and store-bought bread from Park (who was too lazy to make bread herself). The group gathered their food in the kitchen then spread out across the room and picked who they wanted to talk to.

Lazar approached Adler with a teacup. "I made her special tea."

"Thanks." Adler took the cup. He paused as a waft from the tea reached his nose.

Was this... peach tea..?

Oh well. As long as it wasn't that lemon shit.

He slid the cup to Bell, who was trying to eat spaghetti through her nose. "Bell, that's gross. Don't do that."

"How's her side?" Lazar asked.

"It'll heal. She got lucky." He pushed her hand away from her nose again. "Woods said one of the Soviets jumped on the grenade and another saved her from suffocation. It's nice to see the Soviets haven't lost all their humanity."

"We're more alike than different, in the grand sense," Lazar hummed. "Uh, Bell, don't do that."

Adler whirled around to see Bell successfully get a piece of spaghetti into her nose. "Bell!"

"See!?" She said excitedly. And then her face contorted and she burst into tears. "Айя!!! It burns!!!" Lazar magically disappeared, leaving Adler to deal with it.

Asides from that incident, the rest of the evening went quite smoothly.

Right now, Bell refused to stop telling stories as Adler put her to bed in her assigned room with him and Sims. Park and Lazar would be together next room over (oh boy) and Mason, Woods, and Hudson shared the room across the hallway (oh boy part 2). She fell quiet when someone knocked on the door. Adler opened the door, keeping his anger in check when he saw Hudson.

"The fuck you want?" Sims asked tiredly. "I'm trying to sleep over here."

"Sims, don't swear," Adler said.

Bell hid deeper in her covers. "Nothing," Hudson said before pushing into the room. He looked at Bell and held his hand out. Then he switched to Russian. "You dropped this."

Bell's little bullet sat in his hand.

Her eyes lit up and she snatched the bullet away when Hudson got close enough. "Огромное спасибо! Thank you, baldy head!" Hudson left the room without another word while Bell reunited Volk with Zayats on her bedside table. Within minutes, she was fast asleep and Sims joined her, the two snoring so loudly Adler remained quite awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not as happy about this chapter as the others. It wanted to take a very dark turn but I didn't want it to, though implications are pretty dark. Also, Redlight Greenlight is one of my lesser favorite missions (the other being the Yamatau one) so that didn't help. 
> 
> Bonus points if you found the S.T.A.L.K.E.R and Two Soldiers (1943) reference.
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading! Maybe drop a comment and boost my non-existent ego? XD Or don't. I honestly don't care.


	6. No Longer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since we've hit the middle of the story (kind of), I'd like to say thank you to everyone in the COD Ao3 fandom, plus the guests that swing by, who has read thus far. I never imagined some crazy fic about a 7 year old Soviet child and her semi-grumpy CIA faux-uncle would be anyone's cup of tea, let alone inspiration for exterior works and extensive comment discussions. It has been such an encouraging experience for a brand new COD fan, and I feel extremely lucky.
> 
> Please enjoy!
> 
> Warnings: Zakhaev gets punched.
> 
> Also shortness of breath and scars from body trauma. 

Much to everyone's surprise (and Mason and Woods' dismay), Bell took a liking to Hudson. He, of course, didn't reciprocate, but he did give her puzzles from Russian newspapers to keep her busy and quiet. The crossword puzzle became one of her favorites. Park guessed it was because she could gauge her cryptography ability. Lazar liked to think it was because she could practice her Russian writing (which he proudly taught her, having taken advantage of his own learning). Adler was pretty sure it was because she needed him to read the clues to her, which meant spending more time with him.

Speaking of someone spending time with her, Bell decided to pester Woods tonight since he and Mason were leaving for Mount Yamatau early tomorrow. The rest of the team also had to pack up thanks to Sims and Lazar getting in trouble with the East German guard today, forcing them out of the cottage and back into West Berlin. Adler had a nice long talk with the two before dinner.

He finished scolding them just as Bell asked innocently, "Woods, how are babies made?"

Adler nearly fell over. Woods choked on his non-existent water and answered, "Ask Mason."

Mason heard his name. "What?"

"Tell her how babies are made," Woods said, following Bell's innocent tone.

"You tell her!" Mason's brow furrowed.

"Hell no!"

"Reznov says you're a chicken," Mason retorted, then added, "And I agree."

Woods' eye twitched. "I'll show your little imaginary friend. Park! Get me scrap paper and a pen! Adler! Get your ass over here!"

Park got the paper and pen immediately while Adler tried to escape. "I'm not taking part in any of—"

"Yes, you are," Woods said sternly. "I don't know enough Russian for this so you're gonna help me." And with that, Woods stalked to the kitchen table—Bell following—and began to draw. Adler reluctantly joined his side, occupying himself with another pen and occasionally translating as Woods explained the entire cellular process to Bell.

"And that's how babies are made!" Woods said after eight minutes of talking. He slapped the pen down while Bell studied all the doodles. "You got it?"

Bell blinked. "I think so... so babies come from Mamas and Papas crashing lips and smashing hips?"

Woods fell over. Adler stabbed his hand with the pen. In the background, Hudson nearly died choking on his beer. The rest of the crew awkwardly distributed themselves to help the three while Bell tried to make sense of what was going on. "Are you playing the knife game?" She asked Adler while he rubbed his stinging hand. He didn't answer.

After a much needed five minutes of recovery and burritos for dinner, Adler decided he'd give Bell a bath. Bell agreed to it (surprisingly) and followed him into the bathroom, undressing herself while he filled the tub. His calloused hands hardly felt the water's temperature anymore, but he made his best guess on what she would prefer.

"Dyadya, can I get Samolet?" She asked.

"You can play with Samolet after your bath," he said.

"Please? She can watch me from the sink."

Adler sighed. "Alright." What harm would it do? "I'll go get her." He stood up, his knees gladly reminding him of his age. He opened the door—

And Bell shot out.

"Пока пока! Bye-bye!" She squealed as she darted through the others' legs while they cleaned up dinner.

"Bell!" Adler ran after her, slightly embarrassed though he couldn't pinpoint why.

Around the cottage they went, her somehow always staying just out of his reach. "You can't get me, Glasses Combover!" The little naked girl turned sharply and ducked under his outstretched hand.

"Get the hell back here!" Adler growled, trying to pull the same maneuver and sliding out.

"Noooo!" She sang. She raced past Hudson, who was carrying a large bowl towards the kitchen. Bell turned again and high fived Adler's outstretched hand as she went by while Hudson kneed him in the stomach to keep them from running into each other.

The two did another three laps, Adler becoming increasingly frustrated at the number of times Bell slipped from his fingers. Which was easy for her considering she was basically half his height. He never imagined being tall would be a problem yet here he was, wishing he didn't have to swing his arm so far down to get her.

Bell dropped to the floor and tried sliding, getting unlucky and toppling under the table. Somehow, she missed all the chairs. She was on her hands and knees before he caught up. "Can't get me!"

"Yes I can." Adler dropped to his knees and reached for her, his fingers brushing her arm as she pulled away. But it wasn't enough to stop her without hurting her.

She crawled under a chair and escaped but didn't run. Rather, she decided to stand behind him. "That's where you're wrong, kiddo!" She laughed.

Adler scrambled to grab her and came up too fast. He stuck his head against the table. Stars blotted his vision as Bell gave her maniac giggle. "Ffff—Bell, stop being a putz!" She ran off instead. Adler worked his way out from under the table, rubbing his head. His eyes landed on the others, who were all eating popcorn from Hudson's giant bowl. "Would one of you please help me!?"

"Sorry Doc, I sprained my ankle the other day," Sims said.

"I tore my ACL," Park added. "I can't run."

"I'm wearing high heels," Woods declared. "Running is a hazard."

"My doctor told me to keep my heart rate below 100," Lazar stated.

"I'm too mentally, emotionally, and morally tired tonight," Mason hummed.

"I'm just enjoying the show," Hudson finished.

"This team is useless!" Adler raged. He ran one more lap before taking a shortcut and finally scooping her up. "Gotcha, you little fish stick!"

"No no no no no!!" Bell squealed, kicking. "Put me down this instant! Or my father Aleksandr Simsovich Woodselsov will hear of this!" Hudson chuckled and took another handful of popcorn while Bell slipped from Adler's grasp. The two went around the cottage again.

Then Bell gasped. She stumbled and Adler caught her before she fell to the ground. Suddenly it wasn't fun and games and more. The little girl couldn't breathe. He picked her up, letting her clutch his jacket as terror colored her eyes. "It's okay, Bell," Adler said gently. "Remember how we practiced breathing?" She nodded and made an 'o' with her mouth as Sims ran off to find a shot of a β2-agonist.

Adler brought her into the bathroom and felt for her pulse. Oh good. It wasn't so high that he should be super worried. He accepted the bottle of medication and syringe when Sims gave it to him but thankfully never used them. She calmed down on her own, hanging on to him until she could breathe normally.

She was ready to take a bath now, too exhausted to run anymore. But only if the water was warm. Adler had to refill the bathtub to make her happy, and in that time, her normal playfulness came back, and she found interest in his watch, listening to the ticking. Finally, he put her in the tub, where she began to splash around.

He washed her as she sang _Spirit in the Sky_ on loop, being careful when he reached her side where the grenade shrapnel penetrated. The BND doctors said some of it was still stuck in her ribs but it wasn't hazardous. She would live. After all, she survived her open-heart surgery, the last obvious trace of it being the massive scar running down her sternum. At least the cut on her neck healed nicely and the animal bite on her arm no longer looked raw.

"Dyadya, sing with me!" She begged. _"Goin' up to the spirit in the sky!"_

 _"Spirit in the sky,"_ Adler added as he washed her arms.

_"That's where I'm gonna go when I die!"_

_"When I die."_

_"When I die and they lay me to rest,_ _I'm gonna go to the place that's the best!"_

With that she scooped her arms behind her and flung them forward, practically emptying half the tub onto him. "For fuck's sake, Bell!"

"You said a bad word! You gotta eat soap!"

"If I eat soap, you have to eat soap every time you say something bad." Bell shook her head. "Then I guess I'm not eating soap," Adler said matter-of-factly.

"But Soap's hot. I don't see why you wouldn't want to eat him."

"What?"

"Nothing."

Adler shook his head and finished washing her. He dried her off and helped her wash up, then tucked her in bed and finally changed out of his drenched clothes. She played with her toys until she passed out, leaving him to search for the toys without waking her and before she rolled over and broke them.

When she woke, Woods and Mason were long gone, their flight almost over their destination. The rest of the group had moved out and returned to West Berlin, leaving Adler alone with Bell. He fried some fish for breakfast and put a little salad and a piece of cheese as sides. He even spoiled Bell with chocolate milk. After that, he double-checked that nothing important remained in the cottage, packed up whatever he did find and Bell, and drove to the safehouse.

When they arrived, Lazar called her over. "Bell, идите сюда. Come here." In shaky Russian, he continued, "I got a surprise for you."

Bell trotted up to Lazar, who gave her a hackeysack. She studied it. "What is it?"

"It's a toy." Lazar took it back and showed her how to use it, surprisingly quite nimble with it.

Her eyes lit up and she tried, learning immediately how to whiff by a mile. But that didn't matter. "Cool!" She grabbed the hackeysack and ran over to Adler. "Dyadya! Look what Lazar got!"

"That's very nice. What do you say to Lazar?"

"Спасибо! Thank you!"

"Пожалуйста," Lazar responded, then glanced towards Adler. Adler shot him a thumbs up, actually quite proud of Lazar's first conversation with Bell. Lazar was even more proud of himself, his smile running ear to ear for a good hour.

The next three days went fairly slow with the team waiting on Mason and Woods. The two called around 10:30 CET on the first day to say they met Hudson's agent and they were heading out. And that's the last thing anyone heard from them for a while (except Hudson, who didn't share anything). With no new information to work on, and the current evidence having been combed dry, the Perseus Pursuit team took a few lazy days off. They listened to the news, then radio programs, then Sims' mixtapes. Lazar and Sims cleaned out the inventory and worked on Sims' van in between teaching Bell how to punt the hackeysack, specifically at Adler. Hudson made phone calls or read his book. Park either wrote her own book or went snail hunting with Bell and Adler (and sometimes she and Lazar disappeared for extended periods of time). As for Adler, his days were non-stop play with Bell.

On the third day in the early afternoon, Adler handed her to Park. "Do something with her." He didn't even let Park finished her confused screaming before he was on the new couch Sims installed, fast asleep.

He woke from his nap to something slimy crawling on his nose. Adler screeched and fell off the couch, slapping it away. A little snail rolled to the ground. Beyond it, Park and Bell fell to the floor, roaring.

"I thought you'd teach her how to do permanent marker eye makeup, whatever you call it..." Adler groaned.

"Snail hunting is far more interesting." Park picked up the little snail. "And it's eye shadow." She held out her fist towards Bell, who bopped it with her own fist. Then Park brought the snail outside, returning and saying, "Also, Hudson just got word from Mason. They tried breaking into the mainframe."

Adler got up and grabbed his aviators— wait... Bell had them. She wore a smug expression with her arms crossed and her hair combed back messily. She had one of his jackets on, which might as well be a trench coat for her.

Honestly...

He couldn't even be mad.

He let her wear them as the team gathered and waited for Mason and Woods' to call back. Bell brought a few rocks over and sat at Adler's feet, stacking and restacking them as she built an entire world for Samolet and Vertolet to discover.

After what felt like ages, the phone rang. Sims answered it via the landline. "Yeah? Oh yeah, we got the whole crew here. Gimme a moment." He tapped the base and put it on speaker. "We can all hear you now."

"Good," Mason said. Bell perked up and poked Adler's shin. Adler shook his head. "We've had no such luck breaking into the mainframe."

"Did Belikov try?" Hudson said. "He knows a little cryptography."

"I know a Belikov!" Bell yelled. The team looked at her.

"Is he a dhampir?" Adler asked.

"No..?"

"Then don't interrupt."

She huffed and began her daily search for the Domovoy, which was just a garden gnome Sims hid around the safehouse. Adler turned his attention back to the call, catching the end of Woods' words.

"—didn't get anything more than us."

"Bring the mainframe to Ufa," Hudson instructed. "The BND has some old Abwehr agents evacuated there during the '40s."

"Why don't you just ask Bell?" Woods wondered aloud.

"We already did," Park answered. "She doesn't know anything about a mainframe. Either that or she does but isn't able to recognize it."

Mason stepped in. "She looked at the computer's number in Zakarpatska. We'll see if we can find a number on the mainframe and send it over. In the meantime, I'll ask Belikov if he can fly the mainframe to Ufa."

"Alright. Keep us updated," Adler said.

"You bet." Mason paused shortly before asking, "How's Bell?"

"She's doing well—" Adler glanced back to see the girl had climbed onto one of the counters and was dumping his wallet out. He stormed over to her while Park wrapped things up with Woods and Mason. "How did you even get that?"

"Look! It's you!" She picked up a picture on the counter and showed him. "Who's the other two people?"

"Answer my question first," Adler demanded.

Bell stuck out her bottom lip. "You always leave it in the cupboard." She pointed to the open cabinet where he kept his wallet next to papers documenting the MK-Ultra experiments run on her. "Duh. How you not know?"

"Hey, I don't appreciate that kind of talk. And you do not go through other people's stuff without permission." Sure. He was the right person to scold her for this. "Now give it back."

"Make me!"

Adler could have slapped her. "Get off the counter. Now." She did, crossing her arms. Adler took the wallet from her hand and pushed her into the corner opposite her toys. "Sit down and stare at the wall."

Bell suddenly realized this was a punishment. "Dyadya, no!" She wailed as he set his hands on her shoulders to coax her to sit down. She locked her knees and resisted the best her tiny frame could.

"Fine. Stand. But you stay here until I say you can leave."

"What if I don't?"

"Then I'm taking Samolet and Vertolet away."

"Nooooo!! You're mean!" She stamped her feet.

"Stay," Adler commanded and left her to pout.

He put his wallet back together, pausing when he picked up the picture, then flipping it over to look at the date. Sep. '67.

Sims joined his side. "You good?

"No," Adler grumbled. "I must be an idiot to think full-time parenting meant making sure the kid didn't get run over by a car."

"You are," Sims said. "The more accurate description is that the kid is the car running you over."

Another sigh escaped him as he briefly looked towards Bell, who had decided to sit down so she could kick the wall, arm still crossed. Little tears slid down her cheeks.

Sims peered over his shoulder, looking at the three people in the picture. "How old would he have been today?"

Adler quickly counted. "26."

"Damn..." the two stood silent and studied the picture for a few minutes before Sims spoke again. "We'll catch Kuzmin. Make him pay for everything."

"It won't guarantee bringing my son back," Adler sighed, taking one last look at the picture before putting it away. "Nor her."

"That's why you got me," Sims chuckled, wrapping an arm around Adler's shoulders. "I'll be your wife without the divorce files."

Adler huffed, shaking his head and grinning. "You're such an idiot." He eased Sims' arm off him.

The two went to the back room where they could spread out papers on a bigger table and talk about the past as well as what to do when they got the information back from Mason and Woods. They honestly could have kept going for longer, but a half-hour in, Park stuck her head in. "Adler, Bell hasn't stopped crying."

"What, she never been punished before?" Sims teased.

"I don't think that's it," Park said. "I think she's scared. She keeps looking around like someone's going to jump her."

Adler stepped out of the room to see Bell still sitting in the corner. Her sobs had become more intense and she kept watching the counter where he and Sims had been earlier.

"Bell," he called. Her eyes snapped to him. "Come over here."

She did so, quickly at first, then slowed down as she got closer, her body tensing and her arms in a defensive position, ready to jump before her face. Adler knelt down and hugged her, making her completely freeze up before hugging him back. "Прости меня?" she asked.

"Да, I forgive you." And she smiled. Five minutes of playing brought her normal happiness back and they ended the day on a high note.

She was not so happy the next day when he repeatedly refused to play. Hudson got word back from the Ufa cryptographers, and the team gathered around the phone with Mason and Woods listening in as Hudson explained the situation. "Turns out Perseus was looking for the names of sleeper agents Dragovich used in '68."

"'68 again? That really was the bad year," commented Sims, glancing slightly at Adler.

"Dragovich..." Mason's voice growled dangerously. "Send those names to us immediately. I'm hunting all of them down."

"Unfortunately," Hudson continued. "Perseus erased them."

"Fuck me," Sims muttered.

"Sims," Adler warned under his breath. Not that it mattered. Bell was rearranging her rocks at his feet and not paying attention.

Hudson continued. "The only name he did leave is a single word: Chikov." Bell reacted, glancing up at Hudson with full attention. "As for the sleeper agent names, the only place we can find that information now is the Lubyanka building. We're thinking Perseus is operating without authorization since he wasted so many resources on the mainframe."

"Chikov..." Adler looked at Bell, who now had her attention on him. "That's a last name, isn't it?"

Lazar spoke next. "Should we assume it's Perseus' last name?"

"It would explain why Bell keeps watching," Park muttered. "Chikov." Bell now looked at her.

"It would be Chikova in Russia," Hudson mused, making Bell look at him again, frustration in her eyes. "Sims, try saying it."

"What, Chikova?" Sims wondered. "Or Chikov?"

Bell glanced at him. Then she spoke. "What do you all want??"

A plan began building itself in Adler's head. "Nothing," he told her and she frowned. "Team! Pull up everything we have about the KGB HQ. Park, call MI6 and see if they have more information. Hudson, do the same with the CIA. Mason and Woods, see if the BND have anything and get as much as you can from your end."

"Belikov can help with that," Woods said. "We can call him before he reaches Moscow and give him a heads up."

"Good idea," Adler said. " We need to know everything about Lubyanka if we want to try and gain a few steps on Perseus."

It clicked to Hudson. "You're not seriously thinking of breaking into KGB headquarters?!"

"Oh, he's serious," Sims and Lazar said together. Park nodded vigorously.

They said their goodbyes then hung up. With that, the team spread out and began their jobs.

Adler grabbed what files he knew he had on Lubyanka and split them between Sims, Lazar, and himself. The three retreated to their favorite spots to work. And for the first ten minutes, things went well.

Then Bell threw a rock on the counter Adler stood at. "Dyadya, play with me."

"Later, Bell. I'm busy."

"Please?"

"Wait until tonight. Then we can play."

"But I've already waited nine hundred and thirty-five hundred thousand minutes."

"Then you can nine hundred and thirty-six hundred thousand minutes."

She huffed and crawled up a stool. "Can I help?"

"Unless you know anything about Lubyanka, no." Still, he slid her a few pictures of the Lubyanka building for her to look at.

"Is Lubyanka the KGB place in Moskva?" she asked.

Oh, so she knew of it. "Yeah."

"I know people there."

Adler froze. Then looked at her. Then picked her up and sat down, setting her on his knee. "We're looking for some very special names," he said as he grabbed other photos. "There's a terminal deep in Lubyanka that has them. Problem is, we know nothing about the inside of Lubyanka except for what's marked on the construction blueprints."

"But you said you were CIA. You know everything."

"Everything in the United States. Not the Soviet Union." He slid an extra paper closer and removed the pen from behind his ear, clicking it open. "Who do you know in Lubyanka?"

And she listed off a score or more of names, Adler scrambling to write them all down. She didn't remember a lot of last names, but she was able to name everyone's job there. The best part: she knew security members.

When she finished, Adler thanked her and carried her over to where Sims was working on the computer while she told him Perseus brought her to Lubyanka when he was busy. "And then I get to see Mitya and he's really nice."

"That's wonderful," Adler said, snapping his fingers to catch Sims' attention. "Sims, what're the chances you can get equipment in her size?"

"What?" Sims' eyes landed on Bell. "I can get it. How soon do you need it?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Sure. List off what you need. Bell, come here so I can measure you." Sims got up and found his soft tape measure while Adler set Bell down and told her to stay still. She obeyed, letting Sims manipulate her limbs as he recorded her body measurements. Adler made a list of everything he needed, then handed it to Sims.

"Damnnn, you really thinking of bringing her in with you?"

"Yes."

"You're more wild than stacked Draw 4s."

For the rest of the day, Adler explained his plan that no one liked but everyone agreed to. Everyone except Hudson, who glared through his shades. "Are you crazy?! Wait for Mason or Woods to return!"

"I don't need Mason or Woods," Adler said as he held his cigarette down towards Bell, who clicked his lighter and lit the end. He patted her head then took the lighter from her. "I need Bell. She's got the social skills we need."

Hudson only glared harder. "Are you enjoying this? You're risking the entire operation unnecessarily."

Adler took a puff. "It's not unnecessary, it's calculated." Now Bell had his arm and was swinging from it.

Hudson closed in on Adler's space. "Just understand that if we botch this we can't get those names." He nodded towards Bell as he said his next words. "It's over."

"Fuck off, Hudson," Adler said without thinking, two months of Bell's sassiness getting to his head.

"Fuck off!" Bell said in perfect English.

Adler bit his lip. This was on him. He switched tongues. "Bell... don't say that."

"But you said it." She stopped swinging to stare into him.

"I'm an adult. I can say it."

"I wanna be an adult."

"Get a little older first," Hudson said in Russian. "Then you can be an adult."

"I hate growing up," Bell grunted, going back to hanging from Adler's arm.

"You'll miss it someday," Hudson mumbled.

"No I won't!" She stuck out her tongue.

 _'Damn kids,'_ Adler thought. "Come on, Rybka, don't do that. Hudson's a nice man."

"Rybka?" Hudson studied him. "You call her little fish?"

"Yeah, she's a better catch than you will ever be." Adler probably lost his job for that one along with Lazar, who burst out laughing from across the room.

Hudson stormed off and Bell stopped swinging, sticking out her tongue again as he walked off. This time, Adler didn't call her out for it. "I know you can do this," he told her. "Hudson doesn't trust anyone he can't control." With that, he joined Lazar and Sims in loading the car with the weapons necessary.

"Dyadya, can I have chocolate milk?" Bell asked.

"Sure." Might as well spoil her again.

* * *

████████ ███████████ **"Bell"** **Chikova, Assault Team**   
**KGB HQ Basement, Moskva**  
█████ **9th, 1981**

"I gotta go pee."

"You just went half an hour ago."

"So?"

"Bell, I thought you told you not to drink so much."

"Well, you also told me not to dry up and die, Uncle Russell."

Uncle Russell groaned. "Fine. Make it quick."

"Where do I go?"

"Just... go behind that boiler." And she obeyed. She was back just as someone flickered a flashlight through the windows, blinding her.

Uncle Russell walked forwards a little. "____'_ ____ ___'_ ____ _______."

A second voice spoke. Bell perked up. She knew that voice! She joined Uncle Russell's side as the door opened, revealing her favorite person. "Mitya!" She threw herself into his waist and hugged him as Uncle Russell muttered something about being quiet.

Mitya smiled a little and switched to Russian. "Мой идиот! Hello, my little idiot! I see you got bigger."

"Mm-hmm! Dyadya Russell has been feeding me bratwurst."

"Must be quite the bratwurst," Mitya hummed before loosening her grip on him so he could give Uncle Russell a keycard. "When you said you were bringing a partner, I was expecting someone a little taller."

"The smaller, the quieter," Uncle Russell responded.

Voices echoed through the hall. Uncle Russell pushed her behind cover and signaled her to keep silent, then hid himself. Meanwhile, Mitya wandered off down the hall. He came back shortly after with a random guy trailing him. "Там там там! Over there! I found an unlocked door! There is no excuse for this incompetence! We have very strict protocols in place to prevent this, nyet?" The guy made the wrong decision of taking one step farther than he should have. Uncle Russell jumped him and choked him, suffocating him by covering the man's mouth and nose.

Once the man was dead, Uncle Russell dragged him to cover. "Follow Belik—Mitya," he said to her. "He'll help you out while I get changed."

"Why?"

"'Tis the plan. Now come," Mitya muttered. He held his hand out towards Bell, who took it but kept her eyes on Uncle Russell. As he pulled her away, she whined. "Hush, Mila."

Mila? Who's Mila?

"Why are we leaving Dyadya?" she whimpered.

"We are not. He will be right behind you. Make haste. We do not have much time." She reluctantly obeyed, trying to keep an eye on where she was going and where Uncle Russell was.

Mitya brought her to a vent. He drew a screwdriver and undid all the bolts, taking the grate off. Then he picked her up and set her in the vent, handing her a paper and a pen. "I have drawn the ventilation system for you. Follow the red line and keep track of where you are going. You will have to cross one hall into another office to reach the next vent. I will have those two vents unscrewed so all you need is to push them out and put them back. Ideally, they are not heavy."

"What about Uncle Russell?"

"I'm right here." Uncle Russell strode towards them, and Bell beamed. She reached out to hug him but he stopped her. "Focus on the mission. I'll be on the other end."

Mitya looked Uncle Russell up and down. "You should lose the shades."

"Hell no."

"Are you trying to make your life harder?"

"Yes."

Bell moped as Uncle Russell and Mitya lifted the grate together and screwed it on before her, locking her on the other side. "Why can't I go with you?"

Mitya answered. "Children are not supposed to be down here. Walking out would raise questions."

"But I'm scared."

"You'll be okay," Uncle Russell said.

"What if someone grabs me and hurts me?"

"Just follow the path Mitya gave you and you'll be fine."

Mitya turned to Uncle Russell as he started to walk away, holding out the screwdriver. "Okay, I have to leave, but you should have everything you need. Now if stopped, you are reporting to Commander Sobol."

"Got it." Uncle Russell took the screwdriver.

"Mitya!" She called. Mitya paused in his step. "Did you ever finish that model Mi-24?"

He grinned lightly. "I did. I still have the other set if you want it."

"Yes, please!"

"Splendid! Good luck, Lyudmila." With that, Mitya was gone.

Uncle Russell stuck two fingers through the vent and passed her a tiny flashlight. She took the flashlight then captured his finger before it went back through the grates. "You'll be there, right?" She asked.

"I will."

"Promise?"

"Я обещаю. I promise. I'll see you soon, Rybka."

"Okay..." she let his finger slip away and watched as he walked out. Bell stifled a cry, fear encasing her again. What if he got caught? What if she got lost?

She sat in the vent, looking around and wondering as she listened to voices idly chatting. A man laughed crookedly. Someone was shouting in the distance. "—is going to suffer for this! It's Belikov, you fools! Go find Belikov!"

She began to crawl, using the flashlight to make sure she was going the right way. Mitya did a very nice job drawing out every little turn and she marked where she had been with the pen. The more she looked at it, the more she realized how many unnecessary turns she made. Maybe this was the safest route because it wasn't the shortest. She would have preferred the shortest, the cold vent reminded her too closely of her cage but without places for Sobaka the Siberian Husky to stick his big teeth through.

The map lead her to an office. This must be the right area, for when she gave the grate a shove, it moved. It was too heavy for her to pick up and put down quietly. So she kicked it out. The grate clattered to the ground, scaring her. "Is someone in there?" A voice called from outside as she slipped out of the vent.

The door opened and a Soviet entered, his Kalash leading. He lowered it as soon as he saw her, then saw the open vent. "Did you come through the vent?"

She looked at the grate on the floor. "It fell on me..."

The man reached for his radio just as the door opened again. Mitya rushed in and stabbed the man in the neck, covering his mouth to quiet his screams. He dropped the man to the floor. "Well, that was plot convenient timing," he said. He motioned her to follow and lead her across the hallway to the opposite office. Mitya popped the grate and she crawled into the vent. "When you see him, tell Дядя Рассел to stay in the room until I come. Understand?"

"Uh... tell Dyadya Russell not to hustle."

Mitya blinked. "Sure. Close enough. Now go." He shut the grate on her then left the room while she continued to crawl on.

A few more turns and marks on the vent map and she reached another office. This time, the office wasn't empty. A KGB officer and receptionist stood against each other, hugging. The receptionist said something about her family while the officer simply hummed, his smile growing bigger. Then they laughed before dissolving into kissing, trying to eat each other's face off.

Her stomach churned. Ew. Love.

They stopped and stared into each other's eyes, sometimes blinking. "Tell me another," the receptionist hummed.

The officer made some guttural noise as they began rocking back and forth. "Let's see... During the famine of the civil war, a delegation of starving peasants comes to the Smolny, wanting to file a petition. 'We have even started eating grass like horses,' says one peasant. 'Soon we will start neighing like horses!' 'Come now! Don't worry!' says Lenin reassuringly. 'We are drinking tea with honey here, and we're not buzzing like bees, are we?'"

The woman burst into laughter and the man joined her. Bell frowned. _'I don't get it...'_ Shame. She liked jokes with funny body movements. Sims was a master at that.

The doorknob clicked and the man and woman jumped away from one another. From her current angle, Bell wasn't far enough up to see who came in, but she perked up when the third voice spoke. "Am I interrupting something?"

_'Uncle Russell!'_

She slipped forwards a little to see Uncle Russell had removed his glasses and was still carrying the bag. Oh right, Mitya said something about waiting.

The KGB officer scowled. "As a matter of fact, you are interrupting something. How did you get in here? I locked the door!"

Uncle Russell glanced down at the knob. "You did? The lock must be broken or you forgot." He tested the lock and sure enough, it didn't click.

"I certainly did not forget! Why are you here?"

"Commander Sobol sent me here to check the vents in this room. They've been making curious sounds."

"That so?"

"Oh, Yosef," the receptionist said. "Let the man do his job."

"The vents have never had a problem before." Yosef crossed his arms.

Uncle Russell gave a shrug. "This building was made in '98 and ventilation systems have been here since Shchusev's augmentation in the 40s. A system that lasts nearly 40 years without maintenance is impossible."

"Very true," the receptionist said.

"Yes, yes, that is true," Yosef muttered, still angry. Silence fell upon the adults. Bell slid forwards slightly to see better.

The woman decided to say something to break the stiffness. "Comrade, do you know any good jokes?"

"Jokes?" Uncle Russell asked.

"Yes, of course. Yosef is a huge fan of jokes. Perhaps we can end this silly quarrel with a joke." Yosef nodded to support the woman's claim.

Bell ran through her own thoughts. Did she know a joke? Well, she knew one. But that wasn't important. Did Uncle Russell have good jokes like Sims?

Uncle Russell thought for a second. "I only know a classic one. Three men are sitting in a cell in the Dzerzhinsky Square. The first asks the second why he has been imprisoned, who replies, 'Because I criticized Karl Radek.' The first man responds, 'But I am here because I spoke out in favor of Radek!' They turn to the third man who has been sitting quietly in the back and ask him why he is in jail. He answers, 'I'm Karl Radek.'"

_'That's not funny either... Uncle Russell, you suck at this.'_

Apparently, the officer and woman disagreed with her, for they laughed heartily. "A classic indeed!" Yosef said, shaking Uncle Russell's hand. He and the receptionist walked towards the door. "What is your name, comrade?"

"Rodion," Uncle Russell responded.

"Comrade Rodion! A comedian among us! I will tell my friends about you! I wish you luck with your job!"

The three said their goodbyes again before the man and woman left. Uncle Russell sighed heavily, muttering something in English as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he dropped an unraveled paper clip onto the nearby desk and approached the grate, drawing the screwdriver from his pocket. "Bell?"

"Dyadya!" She slid up closer, beaming. He kept his promise!

"Hey, Rybka." He opened the vent and let her out. She hugged him and he didn't hesitate to return it. "Glad you made it."

"Me too! Oh, I saw Mitya. He said wait for him."

"That so?"

"Yeah." She handed him the flashlight and he pocketed it. "Also, I don't get the jokes."

He set her down and screwed the grate on. "They're a little old for you."

She frowned. "Do I have to be an adult to get them?"

"Not really. It's more about knowing your history than being older." He finished and opened the side of the bag to put the screwdriver in and stopped. "Bell, why is my wallet in here?"

"Oh, I might need it."

"For what?"

"I dunno."

Uncle Russell sighed. "Whatever. Once Mitya gets here, we'll go. Don't forget who you're supposed to be."

"Wait, who are we pretending to be?"

"I already told you."

"I forgot."

"We're pretending that you have come to sort immigration documents. Just don't say anything. I'll handle the rest."

"Can I tell you a joke?"

"Sure. Make it quick."

"A parrot says to a parrot,   
I will scare you, parrot!   
The parrot answers the parrot,   
Parrot, scare the parrot!"

Uncle Russell smiled. "That's a good one."

The door opened and Mitya walked in. "Mitya!"

"Hi Mila!" He waved. Then he turned to Uncle Russell. "They found some bodies. They're locking down the building and raising security."

"Чёрт..." Uncle Russell rested a hand along his chin as he thought. "Dammit."

Mitya spoke again. "I will take this bag to the other side of the scan. You and Mila must go through the scan."

"Who's Mila?" Bell asked.

Mitya frowned. Then looked at Uncle Russell. "Concussion," Uncle Russell said. "Her memory is a little off." He turned to Bell. "Bell, your name is Lyudmila Chikova. Got it?" She nodded.

Mitya picked up the bag. "Room 115 is where you will find it."

"Thanks, Belikov." Uncle Russell put his glasses back on and nodded to Mitya as they left the room. Once in the hallway, he gestured to Bell. "Bring us to security."

She obeyed, heading to the lobby. Under Uncle Russell's instruction, she tried to sneak around the security by going through an office but a Soviet soldier caught them, and the man refused to negotiate. "Go through the checkpoint," he said. And the two did.

They waited in line, Uncle Russell tensing slightly seeming a little tense as Bell looked around the giant building, her ears picking up on gentle piano music playing in the background.

She passed through the scanner with ease. Uncle Russell was not so lucky, the scanner hissing at him when he stepped through.

Uh oh.

"Empty your pockets on the counter, comrade," one of the two men at the desk demanded.

She recognized that voice. As Uncle Russell reluctantly dumped whatever he had in his pockets, she peered over the edge. A bald man and a man with some fluffy black hair stood on the other side.

The bald man glanced down at her. And then the corners of his eyes crinkled. "Lyushka? Is that you?"

Bell didn't respond to the name. But when Uncle Russell lightly kicked her, she beamed. "Hi Pavel!"

"Well, I'll be damned!" Pavel said. "I haven't seen you in forever, Chuvak!" He turned to his buddy. "Artyom! Look!"

The other man poked his head over the desk. "Hi Luda! I see that scratch on your neck healed up."

Neck? She didn't remember that. And how did everyone know her code name? Maybe Uncle Russell was doing funny things behind her.

Artyom handed the flashlight back to Uncle Russell. "Cool flashlight," he said and Uncle Russell quietly thanked him. Bell didn't really like the energy she felt from Uncle Russell. He seemed almost...too quiet...

She would have asked him what was wrong if it wasn't for a woman walking up behind Pavel and Artyom. "Pavel, for Lenin's sake, can we stop listening to classical piano shit?"

"Anna, you have no taste for good music," Pavel said.

"At least this is better than that Utyosov you listen to," Artyom added.

The woman shook her head. Bell remembered her for her sweets. "Oh, hello, Luda," she said calmly. "If you can convince these two to stop listening to Russ on repeat, I would appreciate it."

"What's Russ?" She asked. Artyom signaled to Pavel, who moved Bell and Uncle Russell to the side so they could keep the line going. A glance back at Uncle Russell made Bell even more uneasy.

"He was way before your time. 40s and early 50s," Pavel said. "He was this piano and flute prodigy from Germany."

Anna shook her head, sighing. "Poor kid. Forced to perform to show off the Third Reich's talented youth. No wonder he just disappeared one day and never returned to the stage. Personally, I think he died."

"I don't think so," Pavel said. "The orphanage would have made a big deal about it to get public sympathy if he died."

"Well, people don't disappear in the world like that."

"Sure they can. There's still plenty of places in the world someone can run to. And he was only really well known in Europe. The rest of the world had their own musicians." He turned back to Bell. "Anyway, long story short, I still listen to his stuff because he's perfected Strauss and Liszt."

Anna rolled her eyes. "Nerd."

"Cool!" Bell replied. "Mama used to play piano. And then she stopped when she went deaf."

Pavel gave her a sad smile. "I'll bet she was really good at the piano." And Bell nodded.

"Ай! Pavel! Come help me out!" Artyom called. "Thanks for stopping by, Luda. Good to see you healing up."

Something crashed in the background, making the three look up. "Putin, get the fuck out of my borscht!" Pavel yelled and ran off.

Anna sighed. "Idiot... Say hi to Belikov for me, will you?"

"I will!" She smiled. "Bye!" And she walked off. It wasn't until they were deep in the hall did she glance back at Uncle Russell, who followed her stiffly. "What's wrong, Dyadya?"

"Nothing," he said. "You did good talking to them."

"They're my friends! They're really nice! Anna gives me cupcakes sometimes and Artyom and Pavel let me work with them."

"That's wonderful."

"You don't sound like you're excited."

"Well, I'm not supposed to be here." She didn't press for more information.

They took a turn down to a room and Uncle Russell found the bag. He then asked her to lead him to the elevator. Once inside, he placed the special keycard Mitya gave him in a slot and pointed to a button. "Go ahead and press that."

"No. Buttons are evil."

"What?"

"They get you killed."

"Fine." He sighed again. He did that a lot. "I'll do it myself." He set the bag down and tapped the button.

Just as the doors were almost shut, a hand reached in. Some big scary dude walked in, making Bell shift her weight and glance repeatedly towards Uncle Russell, who took a step back but never broke composure.

The doors shut and the elevator began to move. "Hmm..." said the scary man. "A fresh face. When did you arrive?"

"Today, sir," Uncle Russell responded.

The man gave a slow nod. "Ah, of course. Who did you say you report to again?"

"I report to Commander Sobol."

"Hmmm... and who is the child?"

Uncle Russell stiffened again as he opened his mouth to answer. Bell, however, had other plans. "I'm Marshal Aleksandr Simsovich Woodselsov's daughter. This is my personal guard, Lieutenant Rodion Masonovich Adlersky."

"Really?" The scary man looked at Uncle Russell, who nodded seriously. "And why have you come here?"

"We're here on business to discuss a misconception about my father," she said. "There has been a complication about my mother's immigration from Tajikistan to St. Petersburg. My father handled the paperwork guaranteeing he would provide safe passage across the border for her, but was detained without questioning, simply because he himself did not have paperwork despite being a certified resident of Moskva. I am here on my mother's behalf—as she is very sickly—to clear both my parents' names and vouch for my father to return home and my mother to receive citizenship. And to prove that the papers do exist."

"Is that so?"

"Indeed, comrade."

"Perhaps you should have gone to the Grand Kremlin Palace."

"But comrade, the Grand Kremlin Palace is always quite busy. I would hate to impose on their valuable time. And I assumed Lubyanka would be as willing to help a fellow Soviet, particularly a Supreme Officer, simply reunite his family. It would be wrong to have such a trivial familiar mark against the СССР." When he didn't answer, she pressed on. "Allow me to get the documentation." She went to Uncle Russell's bag and unzipped the pocket with his wallet in it. She held it out towards the big scary man. "I keep it in here."

The big scary man leaned down to take the wallet. Just as his hand touched it, Bell reached past and seized his wrist. "What the—" Uncle Russell socked the man in the face, knocking him cold.

"Awesome," Bell giggled.

Uncle Russell studied her. "How old are you again?"

"Seven. Why?" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bell's joke is intentionally not funny to English readers because the joke is a play on words (or rather a tongue twister) in Russian. The joke is as follows:
> 
> Govorit popugay popugayu,   
> Ya tebya, popugay, popugayu.   
> Popugay popugayu v otvet,   
> Popugay, popugay, popugaya.
> 
> Which looks like this in Cyrillic:
> 
> Говорит попугай попугаю,   
> Я тебя, попугай, попугаю.   
> Попугай попугаю в ответ,   
> Попугай, попугай, попугая.
> 
> I decided to keep the English translation after asking a few people on Discord who couldn't read Cyrillic what операция (operation) looked like. So the joke is lost in translation sadly.
> 
> Also, the CIA has a book filled with Soviet jokes.
> 
> Anyway, you know the drill! Thanks for reading!


	7. Brings Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long author's note! Feel free to skip if you don't care
> 
> I realized I'm an idiot: the Soviet uniform Belikov got Adler is a Major's uniform. In the elevator, Bell said Adler was lieutenant. So really, Zakhaev should have whacked Adler over the head and held her at gunpoint because he'd know that.
> 
> Oh well. I'll leave it in if anyone catches it.
> 
> Sorry for the slower update for this chapter. In between university starting again, I've been struggling with depression and no motivation. I'll try and continue the weekly updates as I do want to finish this story. This story does become a little darker and for the next three chapters, there will be some significant deviance from the BOCW campaign (as though that hasn't happened enough already). But do not fear! My I-Wrote-This-At-2am comedy lines will remain sprinkled within!
> 
> Also! Since we're at chapter 7, I'd like to propose a scavenger hunt about an overarching detail I've had in the story, because I'm a little shit and won't just directly tell you. More details on that at the end.
> 
> Big thanks to random horse on discord for beta reading this chapter!
> 
> Warnings: body mutilation, crying, whump, poison, stabbing, shooting, syringes, Zakhaev gets robbed

Apparently, Uncle Russell had a hoarding problem. Either that or he couldn't travel light.

In the safety of the elevator, he opened the duffel bag, making her wonder how the hell he stacked so much weaponry inside. She was still trying to count all the items inside while he slipped her vest over her head. "Gear up," he told her as he set her pistol, a few mags, her knife, a pair of gloves, and her gauze and pill bottle pouch on the floor before proceeding to put his own equipment on, not bothering to change out of the Soviet uniform.

She obeyed, first putting on the gloves. She found spots for the mags and sliding her knife and pistol into place. Then she waited for him to finish wrapping straps around his chest, waist, and legs. Which was taking him forever. Blyat, he was as bad as Mama before a date with her slimeball boyfriend.

"Dyadya, did you bring Zayats and Volk?" She wondered aloud.

His face fell as he finished the straps. "I forgot, I'm sorry." He knelt and took the pouch from her hands, setting it upon her waist. "You'll be okay without them, right?"

"Yeah."

"That's my girl." He shifted through the bag again and lined himself with dozens of mags, then added on two pistols, one which went at his hip, the other—the one that Woods found in the Maya building—on his chest. Now came the grenades and a boxy bomb thing, also on his chest, and two gas masks, which he secured at his other hip.

While he did that, her eyes wandered around the elevator, looking for something exciting. Ooh! A 3-Ruble banknote! Probably from the scary dude, which they dumped off on the man's chosen floor. It must have fallen from his pocket and tried to sneak away in the corner. Not that it could escape her keen eyes. She snatched up the banknote, then held it up to show Uncle Russell. "Dyadya, look! I'm rich!"

He smiled upon seeing it. "Look at you! All the boys will be chasing you for your money."

"No they won't! I'm gonna give it to girls only because boys stink!"

"Is that so? Do I stink?"

"No! You're one of the girls, too!"

"I am?

"Yeah!"

"So can I have the money?"

"No!"

Uncle Russell slipped his knife into its sheath at his chest while she tucked the money away into one pocket. "You're crazy, you know that?" He told her before giving her a little pinch on the cheek.

"I know! EEK!" She wiggled away and ran around his legs. "Oh! Dyadya!" And her mind changed gears so fast she forgot what they were just talking about. "What happens if I put Zayats or Volk in my pistol? Would it still shoot?"

"It could." He pocketed what looked like a remote. "Though the pistol is more likely to explode or get jammed since they're not the correct bullet size. Why?"

"I asked Baldy Head the same question. He said it would shoot. I didn't believe him." She watched him put his rifle over his head. "Why are you carrying so much stuff?"

"It's too heavy for you." He finished off by picking up his fat gun and pulling one more grenade from the bag. "And there's only two of us against an army."

"I'm strong! I can carry some."

"Sure. I believe that."

"You're being sarcastic."

"I am."

The elevator jerked a bit, slowing down. "They won't be happy to see us down here. Stand near the panel and wait for my word."

"Okay." She stood behind the wall, watching him crouch down and set the grenade on the ground. He pulled the pin and stood back up.

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a few guards chatting amongst themselves and laughing at some joke. "С Международным Женским Днём!" Uncle Russell yelled, punting the grenade across the room towards them then taking cover at the other wall of the elevator.

"Happy Women's Day?" One guard said. "But that was yester—"

The grenade went off, blowing the guards from where they stood. The two swung out and charged, firing at the remaining guards before they had a chance to reorient themselves. Once all bodies were down, Uncle Russell drew one pistol and made a few kill confirmations. "Don't ever do that," he told her.

"Why? I wanna be like you."

"I—" Uncle Russell shut his mouth and shook his head, a small grin working its way on his lips. "Come on, this way to the vault."

A buzzer began whining throughout the bunker, bothering her ears and making Uncle Russell wince. Shortly after the buzzer started up, more guards blocked their path with bullets and forcing them back to cover. The gunshots reverberated off the bunker walls, tearing her ears apart despite her hands covering them. Uncle Russell took a few potshots, many of them getting lucky. Someone BO2 screamed in the distance.

By miracle, nothing bad happened to them. And when they reached the hall, and the last of the enemies were dealt with, it suddenly occurred to her: Uncle Russell just wiped an entire military by himself. Because she sure as hell didn't help except for seven guys who got really unlucky.

Uncle Russell grabbed the last guard's shoulder and hooked his arm behind the man's neck, then used his other hand to force the head backward and snap the guy's neck. He scanned around the area one more time before setting his fat gun against his chest and leaning against a wall, gasping for air.

"Dyadya?" Bell hurried over to him, a little winded herself from running, but more terrified something was wrong with Uncle Russell.

"Yeah?" Uncle Russell removed his glasses to wipe the sweat from his face.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded and smiled weakly. "Я в порядке. I'm fine." His voice trembled with airiness and sounded too weak for her comfort.

"Do you need one of my pills? You give them to me when something goes wrong."

He shook his head and put his glasses back on. "Those are yours. I'm okay." He righted himself and drew his knife, stabbing it into some metal box on the floor. He picked the odd cylinder off his chest and extended some antenna out of the side, placing it inside the vent system. "Plan B," he explained to her. "We flood this place with—"

She stopped listening, more questions coming to her mind as she watched him struggle to even speak. Did he get shot? Was something stuck around his neck? Did his lungs stop working? Maybe he broke a rib? Why couldn't he breathe? She searched his eyes for an answer but between the glasses covering his eyes and his inexpressive face, she couldn't figure out the problem.

Then he reached down and snapped his fingers before her face, making her jump. "You still with me?" He asked.

"Dyadya, what's wrong?" She blurted out, dread swirling in her stomach.

Confusion set on his brows. "Nothing's wrong, Bell."

But she wouldn't accept it. "Should you do the breathing you tell me to do?"

"Bell—"

"What if you stop breathing?"

He frowned. "What's got you like this?"

"I'm scared you can't breathe."

"Bell." He lowered himself so he was almost her height, setting a hand on her shoulder. "We just fought off a big army together. I'm a little tired, that's all."

"But what if you die?"

"I'm not dying. Not here."

"But Mama died because she couldn't breathe! What if the same happens to you?"

He went silent for a moment. Then he took her hand and set it on his chest. Under her hand, she felt the familiar beating of a heart she listened to every time he hugged her. It pumped a little faster than what she was usually used to, but it was steady and lively. More than that, his breathing had slowed quite a bit, still rapid but not staggered anymore. "Does that convince you?"

She nodded and held out her arms, letting him pull her into a hug. "Sorry..."

"Don't be," he said, giving her a small squeeze before releasing her. "Now let's get the hell out of here." He stood and set his hands on the wheel of the door. "Stack the door."

She obeyed and stood at one side. Uncle Russell began to turn the wheel, grunting as he did so. Hardly was the door open when two guards in the middle of the hall opened fire. He kept the door partially shut and by luck, a bullet ricocheted off the door and hit one of the guards. Bell leaned in and shot down the other before the two proceeded down the hall.

Save for one more guy (whom she shot down, surprisingly) they ran into no trouble, stopping before two giant metal doors. Uncle Russell stuck the keycard into a slot, then pushed a giant lever down. Alarms screeched from the door, which groaned as it opened. "Nice to know the Soviets would rather spend money on an automatic door than their struggling villages," Uncle Russell muttered before gesturing to the slowly opening gap. She went through first. "Bell, take these and get to the computer."

He held out a disk and the keycard. She took them, then ran to the computer. A little hopping showed her the two areas which she needed to put the items in. "Dyadya, I can't reach," she said as she heard footsteps clattering down the hall.

Uncle Russell shut the heavy doors then hurried over to her and took the two devices, putting the keycard in first. "You really need to grow a few more inches."

"I agree." Whatever an inch was.

The screen flashed some giant words, making Uncle Russell grumble. "Really? You need a password for this? Aren't the vault doors already overkill?"

"Maybe I can get the password."

He shrugged and gestured to the computer. "Do your thing."

She began to hunt around the computer for a number while he searched the room for something. Bell peered at the desk, the screen, behind the computer, and the big box case with all its little components. Oh, there it was under the monitor. "Found it!"

"Great." Uncle Russell dumped out a box of pistols and set the box upside down, giving her just enough height to reach the keyboard. Meanwhile, she took her gloves off and pocketed them.

She closed her eyes and let her fingers rest on the keyboard, the computer's number dancing in her head, scanning for its twin on her father's list. But when the list hit the end, her heart sank. "Papa didn't have the password."

"Dammit. Hop off so I can try." She obeyed and he began typing and making the computer pop up various lines of code.

"Maybe it's in Rudnik's list?"

"Who?"

"He's a weirdo, but he works with the KGB and he knows Papa. He had a number list too."

Uncle Russell thought for a second before giving a small shrug. "Worth a shot. Let me clear the console." He tapped a few buttons and returned everything to normal, then moved aside as she adjusted herself on the box. Once again, she ran the process through her head again, spinning through the extensive list of numbers.

Halfway through the list, her concentration was cut short by a high-pitched squeal of metal against metal. Someone was drilling through the doors. "Bell... might want to start remembering now," Uncle Russell muttered.

"I gotta start over."

"Fff—...do it quick."

Bell closed her eyes again. The searing grew louder, and it took some time to quiet her mind to almost "hear" the list scrolling.

And then it came to her. Her eyes shot open just as the guards broke through the door. Bullets shot by her head, one of them striking an object shortly above her head. Uncle Russell knocked her off the box and to the ground. "I take it back: I'm glad you're not taller," he muttered.

"I got the password!"

His eyebrows shot up. "You did??"

"Uh-huh! It's 55452349C37372519B!"

"That's great. Who comes up with these passwords?"

"I dunno. At least it's not Пароль, like half my Papa's passwords are."

"His passwords are Password? Mason and your father would get along really well." Uncle Russell fired a few rounds over the table. "Now put the disk in and get those names off."

"How?"

"Right. You can't read." He slipped the pistol Woods found at the Maya building out of its holster and handed it to her. "Shoot them."

She did so, peering over the table using her makeshift stool while he reached past her to activate the copying process. A little bar appeared on the screen along with some numbers slowly crawling up as the bar filled.

"I can read that," she told him, handing back the pistol, which she had emptied. He shook his head, sighing, then pushed her down as he lobbed a grenade at the group of guards. The greande took out a number of guards, but also echoed off the walls and caused her head to spin.

Back and forth the fire went, Uncle Russell making use of all the weaponry in the room while Bell burned through all her mags, including the few extra Uncle Russell gave her for the pistol Woods found. Now completely useless in shooting, she began wondering if she should let him do the work (not that he wasn't already doing it all to start with) or if she should try and shoot one of the rifles.

A hissing caught her attention as she watched Uncle Russell collapse behind the desk, his face contorted into one of pain. "Fuck...!" He grumbled under his breath. A nasty cut ran across his thigh.

"Dyadya!" Bell scrambled over to him, watching blood pool out of the wound. She reached to put pressure on it and stop it.

He pushed her hands away from it. "Just a graze. I'll live," he said through a strained voice. "How's the disk?"

"83%."

Uncle Russell nodded, his impatience radiating off him. Still, he didn't say anything and found his balance on his bad leg, enough so that he could lean out and keep shooting. He also tossed her his other pistol and an extra mag, though it didn't matter. The pistol didn't shoot in a way she liked and she missed all but one bullet, which thankfully struck someone in the chest and knocked him to the ground.

Just a few short minutes later (though it felt like hours to her as she watched Uncle Russell's strength wavering), the disk finished. "It's done!" She called.

"Great! Get it out!" Uncle Russell commanded.

She got back onto the crate and studied the computer, following Uncle Russell's instructions as he told her how to eject the disk. One little button press and the computer spat the disk out. Bell latched her fingers on the flat circle and yanked it out, then did the same to the keycard, shutting down the computer. "Got it!" She yelled, holding the disk up to show Uncle Russell.

A bullet hit her raised hand.

Bell screamed and fell off the box, the impact too strong for her to remain standing. Her hand struck the ground, forcing her fingers open and the disk bounced across the floor, then rolled out of sight. _'No!'_ She tried to grab it. Pain kicked her instead, roaring up her arm and through her chest. It attacked her heart, and her tear ducts responded. She quickly forgot about the disk as she dissolved into tears.

Something exploded and the shooting stopped before two strong arms picked her up. Bell wrapped her good arm around Uncle Russell's neck, sobbing into his shoulder as he said something about her hand. He knelt down and set her in his lap, then reached to her waist. As he retrieved her gauze, she took a moment to look at her hand. Blood. Everywhere. She swore she could make out something that looked like a bone, but it quickly disappeared under the mass of oozing liquids.

And then it was gone from sight as Uncle Russell wrapped it below the gauze. He glanced down at himself, frowning. Then he said something, but all she remembered through her tears was him removing the Soviet uniform's tie from himself and winding it along her upper arm.

"А-Айя!! Dyadya, stop! It's t-too tight!" She swung one knee up and jabbing him.

"I know, I'm sorry." He bit his lip, struggling a bit as she tried to fight him. "Christ, you have skinny arms."

"It hurts!"

"I'm sorry. It's supposed to be tight."

For the next minute, they went back and forth with pretty much the same conversation before she gave up fighting and decided to just cry while he finished up with her arm then went searching for the disk. In between her tears, she studied her hand. There wasn't much to look at beyond the gauze. Her arm started feeling a bit tingly starting where he put the tie on her upper arm. Whatever he did, he didn't do it right if it hurt this much. She reached up to fiddle with it.

"Don't do that," Uncle Russell said, having found the disk and returned it to its proper casing. He pushed her hand away. "I need that to stay tight so you don't bleed out."

"B-But it hurts."

"I know." He quickly pocketed the disk case.

"How'm I g-gonna shoot?" She whimpered, more tears replacing the ones she just got rid of. "I can't shoot with m-my left hand..."

"Obviously." Uncle Russell wiped her tears away. "Your left hand had a bullet go through it."

"I m-meant my right, s-silly." Somehow, through all the pain, he got her to smile. "C-Can you carry me...?"

"Sure." Uncle Russell put a glove back onto her good hand, then adjusted his equipment and helped her onto his back, working her legs between the straps at his waist so she didn't have to work too hard to stay on him. She quieted her sobs, resting her chin into the crook of his neck as he moved towards the door. Her head spun and her mind wandered in and out of paying attention to her surroundings. The only thing she really noticed was his gait. He had a bit of a limp to his stride on the right side. Not that it mattered. She didn't have to do any walking.

"Stay with me, Bell," Uncle Russell said as someone started talking jibberish over the speakers while he crossed an open area. She only hummed weakly, and for whatever reason, that made Uncle Russell talk to her more. Under her good arm, she felt him swallow hard and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly when she looked at it. "Bell, can you sing?"

"Sing...?"

"Yeah, what's that song you like? The one about gymnastics—" He jumped to cover just as a few straggling soldiers attempted to kill him. Uncle Russell blind fired at them then returned to hiding behind the generator. "The, uh..." He paused, then began to whistle out the tune, and her spirits lifted a little.

" _Morning Gymnastics!_ " She said.

"Yeah! That one!" Uncle Russell yanked out his pistol and headshot the last people. He continued through the hall. "How's it start again? Ah, yes." He nodded knowingly and started singing like he knew the tune the whole time.

" _Deep inhale, keep arms a tad wider._ _Do not rush, but keep your counter!_ _Mental health and effortlessness, fantastic!"_

Her smile grew a little and though her head hurt as much as her hand, singing helped drown out the pain a little.

" _Every mood's improving,_ _Any day we're grooving,_ _If you are still kickin', do gymnastics!"_

The two began to sing together, more or less harmonizing as Uncle Russell scaled some stairs, using the railing to support his weight.

 _"Trapped inside your small apartment?_ _Lie down flat and let's get started!_ _Please repeat each sequence in slow motion,_ _To prevent all bad emotions_ _Exercise, and with devotion!_ _Deep inhale until_ _Exhaustio—"_

"Mitya!"

Uncle Russell stopped in his tracks. "What?"

She pointed into the nearby room, where she had seen the distinct figure of Mitya and some other soldiers. A little closer to the windows revealed a team of guards circling Mitya as they forced him down to his knees. Someone had a gun to his head, and Mitya was telling jokes to try and get them to spare him.

"Dyadya, we gotta save him!" She begged.

"We don't have time," said Uncle Rusell.

"Dyadya! Please!"

"Bell, I'm getting you out of here first."

"But Dyadya! He said he'd take me on a helicopter ride someday!"

Uncle Russell took a deep breath. "Fine." He quickly worked Bell's legs out from the straps and set her down. Then he wiped away whatever tears she had left on her face. "Look at me."

She did. He placed the gas mask over her head, making her squirm. It was so stuffy inside! And cramped. And she couldn't see too well. "I don't like it!" She complained, wiggling a little.

"You'll have to like it just for a few minutes" He pushed her down to a sitting position against the wall. "Stay here." He reached to his chest and pulled out the remote thing, then pressed the button and let the remote fall to the ground. Something exploded in the distance at the same time Uncle Russell bashed his foot against the doors, throwing them open and charging into the room.

Bell peered past the open door, watching Uncle Russell wipe out every guard in the room. Something yellowish drifted from the vents and lurked in the room. Whatever it was, it made Uncle Russell cough as he put a mask on Mitya, and it wasn't long before she herself felt something burning at the back of her throat. When he turned to grab her, she noticed some blistering along his skin and anywhere else he had exposed. He gave her a quick visual scan before picking her up.

"Dyadya, my throat hurts!" She said past the mask. But when he didn't answer and proceeded to carry her as he choked on the yellow air, she began to freak out. On top of that, his gait heavily favored his bad leg and tears started to fall from his eyes. "Dyadya? What's wrong?"

Uncle Russell waved her off.

Mitya ran before them, taking over with the shooting. He went first into the open room, firing the rifle with one hand while his other hand shot a pistol he stole off a dead body. He shouted something to Uncle Russell in a different language then fired the two weapons at the same time, tearing down the last of the guards still putting up a fight.

Her stomach turned over and before she could process the feeling, she hit the ground, popping out of Uncle Russell's arms. When she reoriented herself. Uncle Russell was on the ground with her, wheezing and unable to cough, let alone breathe. His blisters had gotten worse and more tears lined his cheeks. Multiple times he tried to get himself back up only to collapse again.

"Dyadya!" Bell tried to get to her feet, forgetting her own pain and leaning on her bad hand. It came back to her as a knife running through her body and drawing a squeak from her throat. Her own tears sprang back to her eyes but she didn't cry, putting her focus towards trying to reach Uncle Russell.

Footsteps thudded behind her and she turned to try and shoot with her right hand, though everything felt wrong when she held her pistol. Thankfully, it was just Mitya. He gave her a quick glance over. "Mila, can you walk?"

She tried to get up but nausea swept across her and she flopped back down. By now, Mitya was over at Uncle Russell's side, hoisting the larger man up and setting her uncle's arm over his own shoulders. "On your feet, товарищ! You dare die on me here and I will execute you." Mitya glanced over at her. "I shall be back." And with that he practically dragged Uncle Russell away.

Well, she wasn't going to be left behind again. Using her good hand, she forced herself to stand. Ugh, this gas mask made it so hard to see out of. How did Papa wear this? Why couldn't they have used something cool like what Vikhor used or whatnot? She staggered on her first steps and found enough momentum to propel herself forwards and right into Mitya. He let her hang on his side.

They reached the end of the hall and Mitya threw Uncle Russell into an elevator, then swiped his card and pressed some buttons on a control panel. He activated the elevator, making it crawl upwards as the vents began to hiss. "Gas should clear out soon." He looked down at her. "What happened to your hand?"

"It got shot. What happened to your hands?"

"The Mustard Gas. Makes raw skin blister."

They reached another floor and Mitya pulled Uncle Russell out. He took his gas mask off and struck Uncle Russell in the chest with his palm, causing the man to start hacking. Then he turned to help Bell take off hers. Finally! Fresh air! Fresh, cold air. Her nose tingled when the new air filled her lungs and she coughed a few times.

She felt sick again. She lowered herself to the floor and lay on her side, her vision wandering in and out. The gauze was really bloody and her arm felt limp and almost useless. If only she could take this thing off, but Uncle Russell didn't want her playing with it. Stupid, if you asked her.

Speaking of Uncle Russell... would he die? Should she feel his heart? Maybe she should tell Mitya about the pills he gave her? She ran all the options through her head, though all her ideas became scrap when Uncle Russell spoke.

"Belikov," he rasped. "_____'_ Bell?"

"____ __ _____ ______ ___." Mitya wandered off to go grab something.

Uncle Russell pushed himself up to one elbow and began to feel around beside him. His eyes landed on her but something didn't seem right, and when he said, "Bell?" despite looking right at her, she began to worry.

She burped.

Uncle Russell sighed. "There you are." He broke into a coughing fit while Bell shifted so she could see a little better from her side.

"Dyadya, are you okay?"

He rolled his eyes. "No, I'm gonna die."

"I don't recommend that..."

"Thanks."

Mitya came back dragging a bunch of stuff behind him, the most notable being two giant guns. "Did I miss anything?"

"I burped," Bell responded. "It was a good burp."

"Belikov, I can't see," Uncle Russell said.

Mitya stopped moving for a second. "Oh... oh that is quite bad."

Uncle Russell scoffed. "Ya think?"

"I do."

He choked again before taking a guess to look at Mitya. Which was far from correct. "You should get Bell out of here."

"What about you, Dyadya?" Bell wondered.

"Leave me behind. At this point, I'm useless. So long as she has the disk, my team can carry out the mission."

Bell studied him through her hazing head. "But I don't wanna leave you behind. Mitya!" She shifted to look at the Soviet. "Mitya, we're not gonna leave him, are we?"

"Now why would I leave him behind?" Mitya smiled. "Adler, you are my friend, нет? You save me, I save you."

Uncle Russell sighed. "Да. Друг. Friend. But how the hell are we gonna get out of here? I can't see, she can't shoot."

"Nyet, but she knows how to call out. I taught her," Mitya said with that innocent voice that made people think he was a gentle soul who wouldn't hurt a fly. He picked up one of the helmets and tested it on her head. It was a little big but far better than the gas mask. Plus, it looked cool. "Trust me," Mitya hummed. "Everything is going according to my plan."

"What plan?" Uncle Russell asked.

"The one I create as I talk."

Ten minutes later, the three stood in an elevator looking like a photo op with all the heavy armor on. Mitya had tied something around Uncle Russell's knee, which made him walk funny because he couldn't bend it.

"____ ____ ____," Mitya said.

Uncle Russell nodded and pressed his radio. "Lazar, ____ __..." he continued talking as Mitya lifted Bell onto her uncle's back. She wrapped her good arm around his neck once again.

"You feel well, Mila?" Mitya asked.

"Мне плохо. Not really." At least it was better than before.

"We'll get out of here soon," Uncle Russell said, handing over the mini bomb thing to Mitya in exchange for a Kalash. Mitya flicked the mini bomb on as Uncle Russell set his hand on the Soviet's shoulder.

"On my call..." Mitya muttered, picking up his machine gun with one hand. "Три, Два, Один!" And he threw the mini bomb as the elevator doors opened. The lobby lit up with fire as the bomb blasted apart, sending a shockwave that nearly knocked the two men off their feet. Bell tightened her grip.

"Давай! Давай!" Mitya yelled, opening fire into the remains of the explosion. "Go, go, go!"

Soviets scrambled to grab entire weapons and fire back. Most didn't make it more than a few steps as Mitya's giant gun tore through anything: structures, windows, and certainly people. Uncle Russell also contributed, listening to Bell's directions and pointing his Kalash in that direction.

The only way she didn't tell him to point his gun was when her eyes landed on Artyom. He had a Kalash in hand and was kneeling next to Pavel's body. He glanced at the trio and locked eyes with her. And for a second, she saw her mother's eyes. The same eyes that met her every morning, filled with fiery passion for one emotion.

Anger.

Artyom blinked and her mother's eyes disappeared. He got up and became lost in the chaos. She tried to search for him but her mind was pulled back to her own reality. "Bell! Talk to me!" Uncle Russell demanded as the trio moved towards the courtyard.

Mitya kicked open the double door leading to a skinny tunnel, letting his giant gun do all the talking as he cleaned the tunnel out of guards. At the other end of the tunnel, a car ran over a few guards, followed by Lazar leaning out the window to shoot at people with his pistol.

"Mila! You still there?" Mitya asked.

"Yeah?"

He picked her off her position and put her to the ground, setting her good hand in one of Uncle Russell's hands. "Guide Adler!" She began to run, Uncle Russell struggling to reach down to her and his bad leg hindered their speed quite a bit. Meanwhile Mitya let the machine gun rage down the tunnel towards the chasing guards.

Lazar got out of the car and opened the door then fired his pistol some more as Uncle Russell ran straight into the open door. "___ __ _ _____!" He hissed. Finding the correct opening, he shoved Bell inside before getting in himself. Uncle Russell switched out his Kalash for a fat gun on the floor, letting the empty rifle drop onto the seat. "Bell, call them out," he said, aiming the fat gun out the back window as Lazar returned to the driver's seat and Mitya made a run for the car.

She crawled next to Uncle Russell and set her head near his shoulder. "Twelve o'clock." And Uncle Russell opened fire. "Two minutes left. Twelve forty-five. One-thirty. Seven degrees right."

"Belikov!" Lazar yelled. A moment later, Mitya dove across the trunk, somehow fitting between every one of Uncle Russell's shots. He bounded into the passenger's seat and the car jerked, tires squealing as it flew down the road.

Uncle Russell hit the last of his mag and stopped shooting while Mitya leaned out the side window and took care of the few chasing cars. "УРАAA!" He whooped as the last car exploded. "Now that is how you make an escape!"

As soon as Lazar called the clear, Mitya settled into the seat while Uncle Russell carefully felt around until he found Bell's good hand, giving it a squeeze. "How's your hand?" He asked.

"Just a graze." She smiled up at him though he didn't look for her. "I'll live."

"That's the spirit."

"Spirit in the sky?"

"Sure. Spirit in the sky."

She smiled weakly, feeling tired now. She eased up next to him, and when he put an arm around her, she crawled into his lap and let him hug her, soon falling to sleep.

* * *

With nowhere else to go, Belikov stayed at the safehouse with the team under Adler's permission. No one knew what to make of him except Hudson, who enjoyed talking to the Soviet. As for Bell, Belikov became her new favorite playmate. She practically forgot everyone else existed and spent her time running around the safehouse with him, singing _Chunga-Changa_ on repeat.

But in between their antics, Belikov quickly proved his worth. He worked primarily with Hudson, unloading the KGB's secrets which were distributed to other CIA teams scattered around the USSR. He also had a few surprises for Park and MI6. As for Adler's team, he gave them relevant locations to Perseus' activity and whereabouts, a list of names of the KGB officers he knew worked with Perseus, and the dates any of these people visited Moscow. He also happened to be a good artist ("I learned from Anton Charkov," he said), drawing the vehicles and weapons the NVA trained with.

"What about Bell's name?" Adler asked, shortly after returning from yet another undocumented visit to the hospital. Thanks to Greta Keller, the BND doctors were willing to take care of Belikov's hands while Bell had her fingers curled to a fist and wrapped up until they could proceed with a proper amputation. They also treated Adler's blisters and flushed out his eyes, though he'd remain blind for a few days.

"Lyudmila?"

"Yeah. Her full name."

"I do not know. My friend, Vadim Rudnik told me her name and that is it."

Adler frowned. "Vadim Rudnik was one of Perseus' agents. Our associate Sierra Oscar Golf X-ray just killed him and sent photo confirmation."

Belikov's eyes widened. "I... I did not know that."

"Her last name is Chikov, that we know. Park, Sims, run through MI6 and the CIA's databases and see if you can find any Lyudmila Chikovas."

"How do you even spell that?" Sims asked.

"Л-ю-д-м-и-л-а Ч-и-к-о-в-a," Adler said.

"You piece of shit," Sims muttered, making Belikov burst into laughter and Adler shrug innocently.

The Russian scribbled on some paper and ripped it in half. "There. English and Russian writing."

"Thank you, Belikov. I'm glad someone's being helpful around here." Sims punched Adler in the shoulder lightly as he went to give the other paper to Park. Hardly had he walked away when little footsteps patted the ground, charging. Adler didn't even get a chance to brace himself before a tiny body smashed into his bad leg, making him yelp.

"Dyadya! Can Mitya make Tetris for me?" She said.

Adler had no idea what she was talking about, but he agreed to it. Bell squealed and began talking rapid-fire Russian to Belikov, who replied with the same rapidness. Then they ran off singing _Chunga-Changa._

God, he was so sick of that song now.

With some help from Hudson, Adler made his way over to one of the tables and sat down, setting a headset to his ears and listening to a broadcast of numbers. Supposedly they corresponded to specific cities marked on a floppy disk, though which cities, he didn't know. And so he simply worked on memorizing the broadcast.

His ears picked up footsteps. Lazar's. He'd recognize those leisurely and sure steps anywhere. Sure enough, Lazar confirmed his guess a second later with a question. "Mind if I sit here?"

Adler took a random guess where the other seat was and gestured to it. "Be my guest." Heat immediately crawled to his ears when Lazar chuckled and moved the stool, the sound coming from the opposite direction of where he had pointed to.

The two fell quiet, Adler focusing on the broadcast while Lazar did his own thing. Not that the broadcast was hard to memorize. _'It's a rondo. The same numbers again and again and random ones in the middle.'_

Lazar flipped the page of a book, and Adler found that far more interesting to focus on. "What are you reading?"

"Just the Russian-English book," Lazar responded.

"Good for you. What section?"

"I'm still on the restaurants stuff."

Adler frowned. "Lazar, you've been on that for days."

"I know. I'm not that confident with it yet."

Sighing, Adler reached out, fumbling about until he found Lazar's arm. He traced it up to Lazar's hands and slipped the book away from the other's grasp, making sure to save the correct page. "What are you doing?" Lazar asked.

He didn't respond, but rather stood up and faced Lazar. Then he began to speak in medium speed Russian, keeping his words clear. "Добрый день, товарищ. Good day, comrade. My name is Russell, and I'll be serving you today. How are you?"

Lazar hesitated. "I'm good," he finally said in slower Russian. "And you?"

"I'm also good. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Uh..." Lazar shifted. Adler tightened his grip on the book slightly in case the other even thought of trying to steal it back.

 _'You know this,'_ he thought.

"Some juice," Lazar answered. Then quickly added, "Please."

"Okay. Are you hungry?"

"Yes. I would like some eggs, an apple, and..." he paused again as Bell gave a holler in the distance. "And fish," he finished.

"Okay. Anything else?"

"No, thank you."

"Thank you, comrade." With that, Adler held the book out and switched to English as Lazar took it. "If you ask me, you've studied plenty."

"You think so?" Excitement poured into Lazar's voice.

"I wouldn't lie about that." He smiled as he found Lazar's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "I'm proud of you."

Lazar clasped Adler's hand and held it tight. "Спасибо! Thank you! Thank you!" He kept their hands together while Adler found his stool and sat down. "How's your Hebrew coming?" Lazar finally asked.

"Not much better than the blessings," Adler admitted.

"Speaking of that, Shabbat Zachor is this Saturday. So..." Lazar trailed off.

A grin worked its way onto Adler's lips. "If I can get my hands on a stove, you're invited to join Bell and I for dinner."

"Only if you make your famous falafel."

"You can count on it. Chickpeas included." If only he could see Lazar's face, though it was probably the same stupid happy expression he wore whenever they talked about food. Then again, it was food that sparked their friendship. Five years ago, Adler didn't think making falafel was a big deal, but when he brought some to greet Lazar upon the other first joining the CIA, Lazar burst into tears, overjoyed at least one person respected his religion. Now, it was just tradition for them to celebrate the holidays together.

His mind snapped to the present when Lazar hummed, "Incoming." And before Adler had a chance to make sense of the words, Bell smashed into his bad leg for the second time that hour, making him wince.

"Dyadya! Mitya wants you."

"For what?" He asked her as he pulled her away from his leg.

"I dunno. He said he wants to talk to you about the boxy thing behind the cage."

Adler froze. His hand quickly released Lazar's and found Bell's good hand. "Bring me to him. Right now."

"What's wrong?" Lazar wondered. Adler didn't answer, letting Bell yank him across the safehouse and to the back room.

Once he was inside, recognizing the change in the echo of his steps, Belikov spoke. "Mila, go play with someone else, да?"

"Why can't I be here?" She asked.

"Your Dyadya Adler and I need to talk."

"But why??"

"Bell," Adler said, keeping his voice steady though dread shook his core. "Go see if you can have a conversation with Lazar. I'll be right out to play with you."

"Fine..." she stomped off.

Without Bell there, the room suddenly became uncomfortable. For what felt like minutes, neither moved, weighing each other's presence. And then Belikov took initiative as Adler found a table to lean against to keep his balance in check.

"Do you know what this is?" Belikov asked. He unsnapped something.

Adler knew that sound too well and his worst fear came true. He remained silent as Belikov continued.

"I find a bag in the arcade machine. What do I see? Vials labeled LSD and syringes to go with each vial. Paperwork about memory programming—MK-Ultra, it says. An entire bag of medication for seizures, heart failure, bronchitis, and a few sleeping pills." Another snap of the syringe cap. "And you are sure it was a concussion?"

"Why the fuck are you back here?" growled Adler. "Better yet, who let you in?"

"Mila asked me to program the arcade with Tetris. She said she was not allowed back here. Admittedly, using Reagan's birthdate was not the strongest passcode. Tell me more?"

Adler felt his breath quicken ever so slightly. His fingers clenched to a fist, and a longing to punch Belikov across the face boiled his blood.

Belikov clicked his tongue. "Так так так... well then, if you will not answer, this must be important. I shall keep some of it."

"Belikov, give it back." Adler took a step forwards but stopped when his foot hit something.

Belikov's voice grew dark. "Do not try, Russell Adler. Mila would be devastated to know her beloved uncle is using drugs to manipulate her."

"You're acting like the Soviet Union hasn't done anything." Adler held his rage back, though his teeth grit together behind his closed mouth

"It is true: they are not much better," Belikov said lightly. "But that does not excuse your actions."

Silence crossed the two, allowing Adler's ears to pick up Bell's voice. She was counting in English with Lazar and Sims for some reason. They stopped when something thumped against the wall and Bell started laughing while Hudson started swearing. "Lazar! Sims! Not inside!"

"It's a hackeysack, Hudson," Sims reasoned, also cackling. "It won't kill you."

Adler took a deep breath and turned his attention back to Belikov. "What do you want?"

"I want you to watch what you do with Mila. If you screw up, I will know." He snapped the cap of the syringe one more time, mocking Adler's state. "I will take one of these little vials of MK-Ultra and a syringe for insurance."

"Belikov, give it back." Adler moved to stop him but Belikov shoved his palm against Adler's chest, forcing him roughly back a step.

"March 15th, 1968." And Adler went silent. "Aralsk-7. Those words mean something to you, do they not?" Belikov lowered his hand. "Do you know why he was there?"

"What do you know about my son?" Adler growled, rightening himself. "What do you know about Constantine?!"

"I will tell you only if you watch Mila properly." Adler heard Belikov walk away, and soon Bell signaled where he was by begging Belikov to come play with her.

Fucking hell. Blackmailing him for something he wasn't even doing. The CIA kept sending him stock of MK-Ultra but he refused to use it.

Just great.

He kept his swirling stomach under control and worked his way out of the room only to be greeted by Bell's squeaky voice practically under his foot. "Dyadya, can I stay with Belikov tonight?"

Really? The girl that could barely stand it when he was out of sight? Then again, she probably had done something like that before considering how close she and Belikov were to the point where she thought of him as her big brother.

"I would prefer that as well," Belikov said. "If, of course, Uncle Adler is okay with it." Though his tone was friendly, Adler heard the small bite to it.

He kept his tone steady as he spoke. "Yeah, sure. I'll have Sims help me get everything of yours."

"Yay!" She hugged him. "Thank you!" Then she scampered away, squealing. "Старший брат! Big brother! I can stay with you tonight!"

The rest of the day went quickly, and before Adler knew it, he was back at his hotel room with Sims having grabbed some of Bell's belongings and all her medications, and given them to Belikov. Hudson had a place for Belikov to stay a few blocks away, and after a quick goodbye (with Bell so distracted by the sheer idea of having a sleepover with Mitya she had to be told twice to say goodbye before she did so), the little girl was whisked away, leaving Adler alone in the hotel room with only his thoughts and Sims.

"If you ask me, this is a damn good time to get some child care help," Sims said.

"Help?"

"Yeah. Maybe call the ex."

"Sims, I haven't talked to her in some twelve years. Besides, she's probably busy with her wife and children. I'm not gonna bother her."

"Well, you sure as hell ain't taking the idea of Bell staying with Belikov well. She's gonna be fine tonight." He fell silent long enough for him to sigh quickly before opening the door. "Lazar'll come getcha in the morning. Night, Doc."

"Night, Sims." He waited for the door to close before continuing to dwell in his mind. Primarily, he was kicking himself for thinking hiding the MK-Ultra dosages in the arcade machine was a good idea.

He followed the wall until his knee bumped against the bed and sat on the edge. His mind revolved around everything that happened in the past 24 hours. Truthfully, he regretted the decision to bring her in. He was no stranger to breaking into government buildings, but...why? Why bring her? So he could scrape off a few minutes?

_'Aren't these the same thoughts I had after Zarkapatska and East Berlin?'_

He ran a hand across his chin, now focusing on why he put so much energy towards Bell. Sims taught her English through cursing, Lazar brought her toys, Hudson kept her brain moving academically, Park and Mason provided her food and the occasional laugh, and Woods—and now Belikov—dealt with her high energy. But him? He did just about everything.

 _'Of course you would. You're pretending to be her uncle. You have to pretend you care. Plus, she's a little kid. Someone has to step up.'_ And yet, he knew he was lying to himself. For deep in his heart, it was a way of trying to buy back time. He saw his little boy Constantine in her. A young girl and boy, neglected because their father preferred his job over taking care of his child. Gravitating towards a person not even blood related to them because that's where they received attention and care.

Too much of Bell reminded him of Tino. The same clinginess. The same fears, not of the dark and imaginary monsters, but being left and forgotten. The same tears. The same method of singing to hurt less.

So when he heard her singing despite choking up blood on that fateful night, the parental instinct he had suppressed years ago came to light and he chose to save her.

"Help, huh, Sims?" He gave a weak laugh and stood, following the wall again. "Sure. That's gonna happen."

He worked his way out to the balcony. Adler rested his forearms on the railing and weighted them as he felt the cold air sting his blistered skin and the small breeze play with the bandages across his eyes.

Help...

"Been a while since we last talked. Chances are, you've probably given up on me. I don't blame you. I sure as hell would've given up on myself. But, since you're more or less listening to me, you've probably been seeing what kind of fucked up path I'm taking." This felt so stupid. So why was he still talking?

"Listen, if you could just watch over Bell—Mila—for me, that'd be great. You can give up on me if you haven't already. But the more time I spend with her, the more I realize: she's lacking a childhood. Kinda like me. Kinda like Tino. So help her out while she still has time, would you?"

He paused, thinking whether he should end it there or not. But his mother never did. Even as he was torn away from his mother's arms, having fit the ideal Aryan child's looks, his mother prayed. And so, switching to Hebrew, he kept that tradition.

"In the name of Adonai

The God of Israel:

May the angel Michael be at her right,

and the angel Gabriel be at her left;

and in front of her the angel Uriel,

and behind her the angel Raphael...

and above her head the presence of God."

It took him a while to navigate himself around the hotel room but he eventually washed up and put himself to bed. The strain of running around Lubyanka still burned through his aching body though it had been a full day since everything went down. And yet, despite taken on a full unit of the Soviet Army singlehandedly, Adler still blamed himself for not doing enough to keep Bell from getting hurt.

Bell...

Ah cripes, he really hated this tender side to him. After all, it was always the side that took the hardest beating. Besides, Bell wasn't his kid. He shouldn't worry about her at all, just feed her and that's all he should do. She'd be returned to Perseus, and then he'd shoot them both. Simple.

And yet, he couldn't.

He fell into an uneasy sleep as his brain debated over whether or not he was showing Bell the right amount of affection or if she needed more, unaware that just a few miles away, Bell woke up from a nightmare, crying for her Uncle Russell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, medical fans. Realism is not to be seen.
> 
> Alright! Back to the thing I mentioned at the starting notes: there has been two little details that are overarching in the story and tell what happens at the end of this story. One of them has been pretty in your face. The other is only starting to become more obvious, which is why I've waited until now to talk about it. 
> 
> Y'all cryptoanalysts now lol.
> 
> I will give out a few hints in the upcoming chapters if necessary and will reveal it all at the end along with a bunch of other random details within the fic I threw in and thought would be fun to share. Right now, I'll leave two starting hints, one for each one. 
> 
> Hint for the first one: It has to do with the songs. 
> 
> Hint for the second one: There's a clue in the summary of the story. 
> 
> Prize is bragging rights lol. Good luck to those that look!


	8. Like It Once Did

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congrats to the anon commenter for finding out the story's secret! The names of the chapters spell out a summary. 
> 
> Also, if it wasn't blandly obvious already, don't learn any medical things from this story. Most are outdated af. 
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who has supported this story so far. It's been absolutely humbling to see how many people have read this story, and to meet readers via discord and tumblr. You guys are amazing!
> 
> TW: It's COD. Some people die. Also, lots of mentions of medications and flashbacks.

"Ow! Dyadya!" Bell kicked her feet. "You're pulling my hair!"

"Stop squirming and it won't hurt so much," Adler grunted back, threading the sections of her hair through his fingers and craftily weaving them together until he finished the second little braid. He fastened a hair tie along the ends. "There. Happy?"

In just seconds, she forgot what she had been fussing about a moment ago and began laughing. "Uh-huh! It's nice and tight! Sims! Sims! Look at my braids!" And she shot off somewhere to his left, falling silent in favor of signing to him. Soon, she ran across the safehouse, calling for Alexei to show off her braids. And that's when Sims decided to speak up to Adler's left.

"Damn, where'd you learn to braid like that?"

"My ex," Adler said. "She let me do her hair sometimes. How'd you learn RSL?"

"Remember that girl in 'Nam I didn't want to leave? Yeah, she knew a little. Learned some more from that Soviet agent we captured in '73 who thought I was too stupid to learn anything. You shoulda seen his face when I suddenly cursed his mother right in RSL." Sims chuckled at the memory, then added, "Incoming."

Bell rammed into Adler, hugging his waist. "Dyadya, sing _Chunga-Changa_ with me!" she said.

 _'Fuck no, anything but that song.'_ "How about I teach you another song?" Adler said politely.

"Another song?"

"Yeah. One that's pretty easy to learn." _'And will annoy the fuck out of everyone, especially Belikov.'_

He couldn't see her expression but her giggling and sudden want to climb him told him enough. "I wanna be tall and sing!" She said, struggling to figure out how to climb him. Her bad hand thumped against his body, looking for something to hook onto before Adler picked her up and set her on his shoulders. "Lazar!" She yelled, kicking against Adler's sides as he translated. "I'm taller than you!"

"Look at you!" Lazar said fondly. "They grow up so fast!"

"Yeah!" Bell cheered before kicking Adler's shoulders. "Giddy up!" And for the next half hour, Adler wandered around the safehouse, relying on the tables and walls to guide him and teaching her to sing _The Wheels on the Bus_. To his surprise, she picked it up quickly. She also complained about Adler's poor horse impression ("I don't know how to skip, Bell." "Lame.") before climbing off his shoulders and staring a game of hackeysack with Belikov and Woods, still singing _The Wheels on the Bus._

Shortly after, Woods flat-out told Bell, "Alright, never sing that song again," and they switched to a Russian-English counting game. Mason and Lazar joined a few minutes later, and if it weren't for the group teasing each other if they broke the game's cadence, they could have passed off as a cult reciting a counting ritual. 

Adler, Hudson, and Park didn't join, Park wanting to do some more analyzing while Adler half-ranted to Hudson. "Why haven't the BND called us in for Bell's amputation yet? The tissues in her hand are well past dead. The last thing I want to have to deal with is necrosis or a major infection."

Hudson set a hand to his chin. "I've thought the same... it's not like the BND to ignore something that crucial... maybe they have something against her."

"But why? She's a kid. She's battle-hardened, but she's a pretty normal, harmless kid elsewise."

"I'll talk to Keller about it. She might know something about the situation."

That drew a small smirk from Adler and he decided to test his luck. "Never thought of you as someone who likes children."

Hudson didn't falter. "I have two little kids of my own. Besides, I could say the same to you."

"Touché..." Adler would have liked to continue the conversation, but he lost his train of thought when he heard Park's heels clicking against the floor.

She spoke. "Adler, Hudson, a moment of your time, please?"

"Sure," Adler said, and Hudson must have nodded, for he didn't move as Park drew closer to them.

"I just scanned the disk you got from Lubyanka," she said. "It appears one of those sleeper agents is tied to Operation Greenlight. Theodore Hastings. He's a nuclear engineer based out of Salt Lake City."

"And you believe Hastings is the one Perseus will activate?" Adler wondered.

"Quite so."

Hudson spoke. "The CIA has run partial surveillance on Cuba since Operation 40. I can call and request for total surveillance."

"Please do," Adler said. "In the meantime, we should make preparations. It's only a matter of time before Hastings leads us straight to Perseus."

"And then we can return to child home," Park said.

Adler gave a slow nod, an uneasiness settling in his stomach. "Exactly," he said.

Thump! The room fell silent, making Adler reach down to his hip, though he knew his pistol wasn't there. He relaxed as his ears picked up the sound of little feet running across the floor. Once again, Bell smacked into his bad leg. She began to cry.

"What's wrong, Rybka?" Adler asked.

"I fell down..." Bell sniffed, her hands reaching upwards along his body.

"Ouch." He picked her up, letting her bury her head into his shoulder. "What hurts?"

"Nothing..."

"Then why are you crying?"

"I dunno..."

"Is she alright?" Belikov asked, his own feet clicking against the stone floor. Bell's cheekbone pressed against Adler's shoulder, probably to look at Belikov.

Adler didn't bother facing the Soviet. "She's fine. She said she fell over."

"Ah, Mason kicked the hackeysack a little close to her head and she ducked too fast and lost her balance."

"I didn't mean to!" Mason wailed from across the room.

Park hummed from Adler's other side. "She's a smart girl. But it also sounds like she needs a nap.

"I can bring her to the couch if you want," Belikov said. "She does look tired."

"Nah, I'll do it," Adler said. "Park, why don't you start thinking about Cuba?" With that, Adler made his way around the room until he found the couch, Belikov close behind. Call him naive, but Belikov's sheer presence lead Adler to worry the Russian might try and kill him from behind.

Thankfully, if Belikov had plans, he decided to wait while Bell was well awake. By the time Adler found the couch, Bell had stopped crying and busied herself with explaining a brand new idea of hers. "Dyadya, what of Samolet was born on the Solovetsky Islands? She probably likes to swim!"

"Solovetsky Islands?" Should he make notes? She always liked to name locations when playing, though so far, none of the ones she mentioned showed any correlation to one another outside of being in Russia. "Why there?"

"Cause it's islands! Islands are nice! At least that's what Mitya says."

Mitya chuckled. "I did say that."

"Mitya was telling me about Kirill of Bell something something—"

"Beloozero," Belikov helped.

"—And how they made a nice big building near Lake Sibirskoye and then some of the people there didn't like it so they moved to Solovetsky Islands and it was a nice place because it was really beautiful." She gasped for breath. "I'll bet Samolet would bring Vertolet there and they'd have fun swimming all day. I wish I could swim. I bet it would be fun. Wait, Dyadya, can we play so Samolet can bring Vertolet to play on the beach?"

"After your nap we can," Adler assured.

She squirmed about and refused to lay down when he gave her shoulder a gentle nudge. "But I don't wanna nap!"

"Samolet and Vertolet will nap with you. Then you can all play on the beach." In English, Adler added, "Belikov, go get her toys."

"Really? Yay!" And Bell eagerly flopped onto the couch, letting Adler tuck her under a blanket. "Can we build a sandcastle?"

"Sure. We'll make it taller than you."

"That's gonna take a lotta sand cause I'm tall!"

"Yes you are." He heard Belikov return, stopping at his right. Bell greeted her toys with a recap of everything they would do together after her nap. Then she began to make rotor noises before going completely quiet, the only sound of her still alive being her little snores.

While she napped, Mason decided to ask the question that must have been poking at his mind, for he didn't keep his voice down. "Isn't there a gulag on Solovetsky? Reznov says there's a gulag."

"Mason, stop with the Reznov," Woods huffed.

"Oh yeah? I'll stop when you stop singing Bee Gees songs in the shower!"

"What the fuck!? How did you know that!?"

"I didn't. But seriously, is there a gulag?"

"There is," Belikov responded. "The SLON camp. Mother of gulags, actually, as it was the first gulag."

"Why the hell is she attracted to a place with a gulag?" Woods asked.

"I did not tell her there was a gulag," Belikov admitted.

"That would make sense," Mason mused. He then went on to pester Frank about the songs, raising Frank's ire and leading to Adler kicking them outside.

"Bell's sleeping, you idiots. Stop making so much noise and get a room." And Adler went back in.

As soon as he shut the door, Belikov pulled him aside. Oh great, another one of their 'you better not harm her' talks. Yesterday, the Soviet gave Adler one of his talks nearly every hour.

Instead, Belikov said something else. "I am surprised she is willing to cry around you."

"What?"

"She rarely cries."

"Really? She cries a lot."

Belikov continued. "In the years I have taken care of her, I have only seen her cry thrice. One was when I let her play in the grass in front of Lubyanka. The second was when her hand was shot. The other was the first night when she stayed with me."

"And you didn't tell me about the other night?" He didn't mean for it to come off so harsh, but knowing her medical history, crying could mean anything. A seizure, palpitation, dyspnea, or the inability to talk—whatever it was, he had had to know so that he could determine if her meds needed to be changed.

"I did not tell you because it was hardly a concern. A nightmare, that is all. Do not fret, I comforted her." Likewise, Belikov's voice came off harsh, getting under Adler's skin.

"What is it you want from me, Belikov? I've been taking care of Lyudmila, and you're here to witness it."

"Her medication," Belikov said. "I do not know what you give her. Tell me."

"Tegretol and Warfarin for her seizures and heart. If she runs into a problem with her breathing, various β2-agonists depending on the condition. On the field, she carries Benzodiazepine and Aspirin in case she runs into a seizure or heart problem, and I'll be adding Metaproterenol for her breathing. And if she's sad or having a nightmare, I give her a hug." With that, he shut Belikov up for the rest of the day, mainly because the Russian spent the rest of the day looking up how to spell the medications. As for Adler, he spent the rest of the day playing with Bell once she woke. He even spoiled her with some chocolate milk.

The following day, Hudson received more news about the Cuba situation. He debriefed with Park and Adler before calling the team together for a meeting. Park began the meeting by explaining everything, then following with, "A vacant government facility in the Cuban countryside has become a hub of activity for Perseus. And the likely location of the stolen nuke."

Hudson took over. "The last read we have on Hastings came from thirty miles south of Havana. Persues is working under the radar so expect moderate security."

"No doubt Castro allowed it," Lazar muttered. "I say we smash and grab. Parachute in, grab the nuke, sky-hook out."

"Langley believes Castro could help Perseus smuggle it into the U.S," Hudson admitted. "In exchange for a peek at the hardware, of course."

"That isn't going to happen," Adler muttered under his breath as Bell played at his feet, humming _The Wheels on the Bus_ on loop and rolling Samolet or Vertolet across his foot.

If his words were acknowledged, he didn't know about it, for Park asked, "And what if the nuke isn't there?" Park wondered.

"It's there," Hudson said. "One of our CIA operatives intercepted a message from Perseus. He will be going directly to Cuba to ensure Hastings is preparing the nuke for arming and detonation."

"And you were going to tell us about that when?" Adler demanded.

"Right now," Hudson said confidently. He shuffled a paper around. _"Hastings, please prepare for Perseus' arrival on March 13th. He wishes to ensure the nuke has been correctly handled. Signed, Miller."_

"That sounds fake," Sims commented. "You sure you got that off a Soviet line?"

"I can assure you, it was a Soviet line," Hudson hummed.

"Twenty bucks to anyone who can bring him down before me," Woods chortled as Bell demanded Adler pick her up.

"Who?" Lazar asked. "Castro or Perseus?"

"Whoever!"

Adler shrugged. "There you have it. Ow—Bell, stop pulling my hair." He moved to push her hand away from his head only to discover she got her fricken chopper stuck in his hair again. This time he just tore it out and gave it back, ignoring her complaints about how much hair was stuck in the rotor. He continued on like nothing happened. "From here out, Park, you're the CO of this mission since I'm off the field. Hudson will arrange the exfil while you're en route, and Sims and I will keep the comms clear."

"Really? You trust me that much?" Park said, pleasure in her voice.

"Don't make me change my mind," Adler shot back.

"I have a question." And Adler turned his attention to Belikov's voice. "What do you plan to do with Mila?"

Of course he'd want to know. "She can stay with me off the field," Adler said. "And you can stay with her as well."

"About that..." Park began, and Adler felt his jaw tighten. "I say we bring her with us. Perseus is there. I could give her back."

"Park, she can't even shoot—" Adler started.

"Have you forgotten she is the child of Perseus?" Park challenged. "We've been hunting Perseus for over a month—you and Sims over thirteen years—and now we have a glaring opportunity to meet him. Besides, she's been nothing but trouble out for us here."

Bell fell silent as Adler snapped back, "I don't think Bell would agree with that the way she talks about snail hunting with you."

"Park is right. You're going to lose to Perseus if you keep this up, Adler," Hudson added. "She's a sweet kid, but she's not your child. You have to give her back."

"What about the fact Park doesn't even speak Russian? Are you going with her, Hudson?"

Belikov spoke again. "I will go," he said. "And I know Woods and Mason's imaginary friend also speaks Russian."

"He's not imaginary," Mason pouted.

"There you have it, Adler," Park said quietly, then raised her voice to speak the others. "If everyone's ready, let's move out."

"I will prove to be a good companion!" Belikov cheered as he hurried off and the team split apart.

Now that things had calmed down, Bell nudged Adler. "Why were you arguing?" she asked him.

"It's nothing, Rybka," Adler muttered.

"I don't like arguing. Mama and Papa argued all the time about me. It makes me sad."

"I don't like arguing either." But his mind began to turn over as he thought about her words. Mama's new boyfriend... arguing... over a kid... was this his own marriage but with Russians? Sure, part of his divorce was because she was lesbian (which he more or less respected), but a lot of it had to do with arguing the future of his son. The only component missing was whether or not Perseus still thought of his ex-wife as the love of his life like Adler did.

He didn't ask Bell any questions, keeping her entertained for the rest of the day and helping the team pack up the best he could.

On the overnight flight to Cuba, Adler decided to cut her pills in half after she got airsick. The last thing he needed was her throwing up in her sleep. He left her to sleep across a few seats, amused when he heard her sucking her middle and ring finger, then approached Park with the notebook he used to keep track of Bell's health. "Write this down down me: March 12. Lower dosage today. A doesn't need to know. Health, mental and physical, is an ongoing priority whether he agrees or not."

She finished scribbling and handed the notebook back. "Adler, if we come in contact with Perseus—"

"You decide what's best."

"And if we need to shoot Bell?"

"Like I said: you decide." He thanked her and let her go back to reading, wrestling with the dreaded idea of having to kill Bell. Truth be told, he should probably be the one to put her down considering he was the head of the entire operation still, but knowing damned well she would still her nerves and stare up at him with wide, accepting eyes tore away at his heart. 

In the morning, as the flight came towards its last leg, Hudson spent some time teaching Bell how to shoot with her right hand and perform a one-handed reload once she woke. Shortly after landing, Park met up with CIA soldiers Hudson arranged to meet them there. Then the teams headed out.

And now Adler was stuck with his own thoughts, with only Sims to listen if he wanted to talk. Over the radio, he could hear Woods and Bell playing a few hand-clapping games. The small smile upon his lips only grew when he heard the familiar scuffing of Vertolet's blades, followed by Sims' voice. "Damn, no wonder she loves this little thing. I'm kinda jealous it's hers."

"I know, right?" Adler said, probably too enthusiastically.

The radio cracked and Park's voice came through. "Adler, would you be a dear and let those three know we're ready?"

Adler shook his head slowly and waited until Mason was done teaching his rhyme before interrupting them, speaking in Russian. "If you're done with games, you might want to get into position."

"Copy that," Woods shot back immediately, while Bell began chanting, "Uncle Russell!"

The teams chatted back and forth to coordinate their moves. Nothing Adler and Sims could hep with. So the two began a lazy game of catch with Bell's hackeysack, testing Adler's eyes as he could finally recognize a few colors.

Their game ended when Park barked commands. "All teams! We do this fast and loud. Find Hastings, grab the nuke, and get the bloody hell out. Woods, light her up!"

"'Bout fucking time!" Woods cheered.

"'Bout fucking time!" Bell's tiny voice copied before the comms became cluttered with various noises, primarily the sound of gunfire and Park's orders.

"Seems like it's going smooth so far," Sims said, tossing the hackeysack again.

"Better knock on some wood," Adler responded as he caught it, then sighed when Hudson's voice joined over another transmission. "You didn't knock fast enough, Sims." He tossed the hackeysack back, then gave Hudson his attention. "What?"

"Adler, there's been a problem."

"There's always a problem," Adler said. "Fix it."

"I can't. The birds are already off. Skyhook Alpha-2 has the old mail system with them."

"What?!" Adler's brow furrowed and his teeth clenched together. "Park specifically requested for Fulton's STARS and I told her the CIA would provide."

"I know. Their excuse was Fulton's STARS would take too long to prepare for the zone."

"Does Park know about this?"

"No."

Park's voice came over the other radio line. "All teams, advance to the main gate!" The radio crackled, the signal wavering in and out.

Adler couldn't see Sims, but the deadly silence between the two left him with the feeling Sims was just as concerned as he was. "Sims, which skyhook received the smaller harness for Bell?" Adler said carefully, making sure Hudson heard.

"Skyhook Alpha-2."

Shit. Without the smaller harness, the chances of Bell becoming tangled in the harness or falling out shot up drastically. And without the STARS system, she could die from whiplash or just snapping in two. Granted, Woods and Mason could also die without the STARS system, but they had trained with the old system years ago. It would take severe injuries or complete idiocracy (he wouldn't put it past them on that one) for them to forget how to function.

Dammit, he should have resisted Park and kept Bell here.

"Any ideas?" He asked both.

"I got one," Sims said. "Switch the courses. Tell Alpha-2 to pick up Park, Lazar, and Belikov, and Alpha-1 to pick up Woods, Mason, and Bell."

"What about the smaller harness?" Hudson asked.

"Both Park and Belikov ain't that broad bodied, and Belikov's shorter than Park. As for Woods and Mason, they're knot tying experts. They still don't got that shoelace knot figured out yet."

Oh god. The shoelace knot. The two thought it was a great idea to tie their bootlaces together one morning to entertain Bell with showing how well they could function with three legs. He didn't doubt they would knot Bell in the third harness so aggressively they'd need a hacksaw to free her.

Assuming she wasn't returned to Perseus...

Adler sighed. "It'll have to do. Hudson, contact Captain Vondrak and Captain Wall and tell them to switch courses. Sims, explain what's going on to Park."

"You got it, Doc," Sims said.

"You're sure they'll be able to do this?" Hudson challenged.

"You know Woods, Mason, and Belikov. I trust Lazar, and MI6 didn't hand over Park without reason. They'll figure out what to do." And yet, Adler's confident words didn't match his mindset.

* * *

**Lyudmila** **███████████** **"Bell" Chikova, Unregistered  
** **30 Miles South of Havana, Cuba  
** **█████** **13th, 1981**

As enjoyable as it was to explore the world of the Frozen Forest with Zayats and Volk and her imaginary tour guide Jacob, there was only so much she could enjoy before becoming bored. Sure, it was beautiful standing in the warm snow with the sun peering through the treetops keeping it from ever becoming too cold, but it wasn't that fun without Uncle Russell there to play with her.

And so she flopped to her side on the van's floor and began kicking the door. "Woods! Alexei! Play with me!"

In the front seat of the van, Woods and Alexei glanced at each other, then pumped their fists, Alexei later engulfing Woods' hand with his own. Woods gave a small grumble and got out of the driver's seat, moving to the back to sit with Bell. "Alright, kid, whatcha wanna play?"

"Can we play 'I spy?'"

"We played that the entire ride here. There's not much more to spy." He reached up to her face and wiped away whatever tears were left from her earlier meltdown over leaving Uncle Russell behind. Then he said, "Mason! ____'_ ____ ____ ___ ____ ____ _____?" Alexei shot back an answer, and Woods nodded. "Bell, do you know what handclap games are?"

"No...?

"Great. Second question: do you know any poems?"

"Uhhhh... Pushkin!"

"Knew you were gonna say that... Alright, I only know one of his, and that's his love poem one."

"Ew, love."

"You got anything better?" And when she didn't have an answer, he continued on with his normal plan, first teaching her to high-five or punch (depending on which arm she had to use) one of his hands in a rhythmic fashion, then layering the poem on top of it.

_"I just recall this wondrous instant:_  
_You have arrived before my face_ _—_  
_A vision, fleeting in a distance,_  
_A spirit of the pure grace._

_"In pine of sorrow unfair,_  
_In worldly harassment and noise_  
_I dreamed of your beloved air_  
_And heard your quiet, gentle voice."_

Bell was full out giggling by the time they finished. "Again!"

"Only if you do it faster."

She agreed and they played again, then again and again, each time growing faster and faster until they were going so fast she couldn't keep up. So she jumped onto Woods and whacked him over the head with her good hand.

"Can I do the poem now?" She asked.

"Thought you didn't know anything better." He pushed her hand away from his head.

"Well now I do!"

"How much you wanna bet?" And they started up the rhythmic clapping again as she recited her poem.

_"Our Tanya's sadly sobbing_  
_On the waves her ball is bobbing_  
_Please, don't cry, and wipe your tear_  
_Rubber balls don't drown, my dear!"_

Woods cackled at the end, making Bell beam. "That was pretty good," He admitted.

"I know!" Her attention shot from Woods to the other person in the car. "Alexei! Alexei! Do one with me now!"

Alexei adjusted in his seat so he could reach back and they did a few rounds as she recited The Rubber Ball poem. Then she demanded he tell her one, which took a while for him to come up with a decent translation, but it went something like,

_"Miss Suzy had a steamboat._  
_The steamboat had a bell._  
_Miss Suzy went to heaven._  
_The steamboat went to Hell."_

As poor as the translation was, all three were a giggle-fest at the end of it. Their fun was ruined when Uncle Russell's voice came over Woods and Alexei's radios. "If you're done with games, you might want to get into position." He repeated it in English for Alexei while Woods climbed out of the backseat and began strapping himself with weapons.

"Uncle Russell!" Bell squealed and jumped for Woods' radio but missed. Woods caught her and swung her around, making plane noises. "Wheee!!!"

He set her down and finished grabbing explosives, then nodded to Alexei, who had a bunch of explosives himself. The two shut the doors of the van and began walking towards the building, quietly talking back and forth.

"Woods, carry me!" Bell begged.

"Not now, kiddo," Woods said. "How 'bout I show you how to plant an explosive?"

"Would Uncle Russell approve?"

"Nope!"

"Fuck yeah!" She said in clean English, making Alexei scold Woods.

For the next ten minutes, the three set up the bombs, Bell being very careful where she planted hers. And when they finished, they retreated to the van. Woods and Alexei began talking again while Bell climbed onto the van's hood and jumped onto Alexei's back. He grunted, then let her sit there as she poked at his beard. "Is this real?"

"Yes, it's real!" Alexei said. Bell pulled it. "Ow!"

The radio made a noise and Park's voice came over it. "'Bout fucking time!" Woods responded and pressed a button.

"'Bout fucking time!" Bell copied, then squeaked when the building exploded, blazing fire eating it alive. Woods put her to the ground and readied his rifle, chasing Alexei who was already a few strides ahead. And Bell ran after them.

They wound their way through the building's rubble, racing a road on the other side. Enemy soldiers greeted them not-so-fondly and began shooting at them. The three took cover behind some of the leftover wreckage. Alexei and Woods fired back, while Bell tried to shoot one guy, then realized her aim was too poor and she'd just be burning bullets. So she watched the double door across the road bash open. Park ran out first, followed by a dozen or so CIA soldiers. Oh! Lazar and Mitya came too! "Mitya!"

Mitya glanced towards her, then got knocked over by Lazar as a nearby car exploded. The two sprinted for cover, Mitya finding a spot behind some stairs and beckoning her to join him. From there, he removed the sniper rifle from his back. "Snipers on the roof," he told her.

She peered past the stairs towards the roof but saw no snipers. Mitya must have seen something, however, for he set the sniper to the ground and began adjusting the weapon. "Can I be spotter for you?" She asked.

"Not here," he told her. "Real life is no training room, Mila. And there are many trained snipers."

"Where?"

He didn't answer, choosing to shoot someone down. The sniper was far louder than the toy ones they sometimes played with, making her jump. Then again, the sniper Alexei used in the Maya building was loud, but she didn't remember it being this loud.

Mitya adjusted the sniper again as Bell watched the soldiers and the Perseus Pursuit team push towards the building. He gave a small sigh. "Silly CIA." He pulled the trigger again. Once again, she jumped. "Do they not know they have one life? Идиоты, rushing forwards like that." He then reached to his radio. "Woods, are you sure these enemies are on realism difficulty?" Woods muttered something back but not in Russian.

Mitya sniped another person before drawing his eye away from the scope and slinging the sniper to his back in favor of his rifle. "Come."

They picked their way through dead bodies and joined the others, who were gathered in the rotunda of the main building. Park was in the middle of instructing the CIA soldiers something when Sims' voice interrupted them, cutting in and out. Park took a few steps away from the others to respond. Whatever they were talking about, it unsettled everyone. Woods and Alexei glanced at each other. Mitya knelt down and set a hand on Bell's shoulder. Lazar shifted and bit his lip. Most of the CIA soldiers glanced around, confused. Some of them tried to catch Bell's attention with a little wave but she decided to let her shy side kick in and hide near Mitya.

Park replied something, and whatever she said, it caused Mitya to jump to his full height and Woods to stamp his foot. The two closed in on Park, demanding something out of her but she remained firm and warded them off with a few select words. Woods scoffed and stormed back outside, Alexei following hurriedly.

"Wait, what's happening...?" Bell asked.

"Something is wrong with our escape," Mitya said. "I do not understand all as the message was quite choppy, but someone confused the equipment. The harness for you is where Park would be."

"So?"

"It means you will be going with Park nd Lazar, and I with Woods and Mason."

"But..." she trailed off when she saw that face of determination on him. The one that told her she couldn't worm things into her way.

"Извините. I'm sorry, Mila." He patted her head then headed out towards the door where Alexei and Woods had gone.

"Пока-пока..." she gave a little wave. "Bye-bye." She turned her attention towards Park and Lazar, unable to smile though Lazar tried to get her to copy him. Park gave a curt nod and the three began to move through the building with CIA soldiers at their heels. Bell reached her arms out towards Lazar, hoping for a free ride. Instead, he ignored her.

Dammit. She didn't want to walk.

Park picked up the pace until Bell had to jog to keep up. Only when they reached a courtyard did the group slow until they stopped. Had it not been for the screams of fleeing civilians, Bell would have enjoyed the peaceful garden. The warm contrast of the outside air in comparison to the coolness inside the buildings toyed at the hairs on her cheeks. Colorful flowers gleamed under the sunlight shortly before lab people trampled them in an attempt to escape the enemy soldiers. A giant rocket added to the warmth, steaming past her and crashing into part of the building. Crumbs of stone turned into boulders when part of the roof fell.

And then she was back inside the cold building on the stone floor, the only warmth being Lazar as he held her against his chest, barely avoiding the bullets from the doorway. "Careful," he said, setting her down. He turned his focus onto the targets out the door while she decided to let him do all the work.

She sat and curled her legs against her chest, resting her head on her knees. The cold stone felt familiar, but to what, she didn't know. What she did know was that closing her eyes flashed memories behind her eyelids. Memories of watching the world pass by behind bars. A quick shake of her head adjusted the image to a lab. Two blurry figures sat above her, and the only clear image she saw was the syringe lowering for her eye.

Fingers snapped before her face and she woke up from her vision. "You okay?" Lazar asked.

"Lazar, was I in a lab one time?" She asked.

"I don't understand," he said after a moment's consideration. He helped her to her feet. "Ready?" And Bell nodded.

They walked through the graveyard—formally considered a courtyard—Park leading the way. Upon reentering the building, they came face to face with a computer. Her eyes lit up and she made a move towards it but Park was faster. And by the time Lazar picked her up and propped her on his knee, Park had already broken into the camera feed.

So why the hell did they bring her with them?

Lazar muttered something to Park then pointed to one of the computer's buttons. Bell pressed it. Oh! The picture changed! Just another room but nonetheless exciting to see. She hit the button again and watched a few soldiers running through a hallway. A few more button presses showed more rooms, and the novelty quickly wore off. Even Lazar and Park agreed, for they both remained quiet.

Then the camera showed a room with a few people inside. "Lazar! Park! Look!" She said. "There's Mitya and Alexei and Woods!"

"Отлично!" He said. "Good!"

Park spoke to her radio, causing Mitya to beat up a guy hiding behind the counters. Meanwhile, Alexei stopped moving and stared into the cameras. He stuck out his tongue. Bell started giggling and did the same thing back.

She waited until Mitya, Woods, and Alexei were long gone from the camera angle before she flipped the camera again. Just another room. And another. Man, there were a lot of rooms. Ooh, here's a room with some people in it. And there's a guy in a gas mask and trench coat entering the room.

Wait... was that...?

"PAPA!!!" Bell squirmed about, trying to get closer to the camera. "Lazar! Park! Look! Это Папа!!" With a giant smile, she glanced over her shoulder, making sure the others saw her Papa as well.

But Lazar wasn't smiling. And when Bell looked back at the camera, her father was shooting the scientists. Her heart sank. A bolt of electricity shot through her body—one that felt familiar but uninviting—as Papa shot the camera.

Lazar put her on the floor and followed Park and the CIA soldiers. Bell trailed though she began losing ground on them, their strides too fast for her. Only when they stopped at a gate and Lazar placed a bomb similar to the ones Woods and Alexei had did she finally catch up.

"Lazar, why'd Papa do that?"

Lazar didn't answer.

The explosive blasted the gate open and the team ran up the stairs as Bell continued to try and catch Lazar's attention to answer her questions or give her a ride, neither message reaching his brain. Her lungs started to burn as the team climbed the stairs, then gave out when she reached the top. Her knees buckled and her face hit the stone balcony. The world spun around her. The last of the CIA soldiers stormed past her. Time slowed down until it was her and her breathing.

 _'Get up...'_ she told herself, but when her body wouldn't do so, she let the fire overwhelm her stinging lungs. Her heart beat so loud she felt it in her ears...

Just like it felt back in that lab...

Another vision flashed before her as her heart skipped a beat. She was back in the lab and Uncle Russell and Park stared down at her. She vaguely remembered crying as she watched them talk. Then Park was gone and it was just Uncle Russell, a syringe in one hand as he reached for her.

And then she was awake, still on the floor. Someone was trying to pick her up. Oh, it was one of the CIA soldiers. He said something but she didn't register what he said. All she knew was that her weak attempts to warn him of the enemy soldier sneaking up behind him were in vain. The CIA soldier was stabbed in the back of the neck and the enemy soldier grabbed her.

Despite being unable to breathe, Bell found enough air to scream. She flailed about and found a grip on the hand grasping her, where she bit down on his thumb. The soldier yelped and tried to pull his hand away but she wasn't going to let go of his thumb that easily. She clenched her jaw, tasting blood.

He kneed her in the stomach and she lost her hold, falling to the ground. The soldier grabbed his gun and pointed it when Park appeared behind him, drawing her knife. He started to turn and just barely stopped her from driving the knife into his side. She chopped his wrist down with her open hand then went for the neck only to be blocked again. Park shoved the knife into his shoulder then roundhouse kicked out his knees and finished off with a single bullet to the head from her pistol. _"You okay?"_ she signed, using the universal gesture.

Bell gave a small nod and let Park help her back to her feet. Park put her pistol away and captured Bell's wrists, where she tested the pulse. Then she motioned to Bell to follow her. The little girl did, asking various questions. "Can we go find Papa? Where's Lazar? Can I have chocolate milk when we get back? Why didn't Uncle Russell come? Do you think you can beat Mitya's highscore on Tetris? "

Park paused in her step as they neared where Lazar was standing, studying the child with a confused expression. She shook her head and joined Lazar's side. From here, the group met only quiet as they finished wandering down the balcony. Enemy bodies lay scattered around, tiring her out as she walked zigzags around them while Lazar and Park could easily step over.

They reached a small room and Park went inside while Lazar and the CIA soldiers scattered around in front of the door. Bell followed Park, watching her interrogate one of the lab men. She searched the room for anything of interest. Which was... pretty much everything. But most of it had been propped out of her reach and so she bored quickly. She left the room, joining Lazar and copying his stance on the other side of the door.

He glanced at her, then raised one arm to test if she was paying attention. Well, duh. She did the same. He then cocked his head and she replicated. Then he stood on one foot. This one took a little more effort for her to find her balance, but when she got it, a smirk spread across her face.

As they stood on one foot, a question raised to her mind. "Lazar, do you think we're gonna see Papa?"

"Yes, Papa is here," Lazar replied.

"That's not what I said, silly!"

Lazar smiled sympathetically, then went back to standing on two feet as Park's voice mumbled things through his radio. "She sounds mad, do you think she's mad?" Bell asked.

Park's voice quickly rose with urgency, and Bell's smile faded. Uh oh. It had to be bad if Park was this angry. It had to be really bad if Uncle Russell was involved, for he threw in a few words briefly over the radio. Plus, when Woods swore, even his tone was different.

Lazar reached to his radio. "__'_ _____ __ Perseus."

Bell perked up. "Is Perseus here?"

Lazar glanced down at her. "Yes? Your Papa is here."

"No, is Perseus here? Can we play with them?"

Lazar didn't understand.

Park came out from the room, ordering people around. She and Lazar passed some words back and forth before they began to run again, Bell at their shadows. "Why are we running so much?" She asked as they were ambushed by a group of soldiers. Bell ducked under one of the meeting tables, shooting at the feet while Park and Lazar's guns rattled above the table. She crawled out from under the table and tried to catch Lazar and Park's attention. "I wanna be carried!"

Neither responded, too busy avoiding death as part of the building collapsed in their path. Lazar turned sharply to his right and pulled out his pistol, firing at a window and breaking the glass. Park stopped about halfway towards the window to shoot at the flanking enemy soldiers, who were overwhelming the last of the CIA soldiers. Meanwhile, Lazar picked Bell up and set her out the window onto the building's scaffolding.

The cold air hit her face, causing her to blink rapidly. A glance at her feet only revealed just how high they were, and she refused to look down after that. She instead watched Lazar crawl through the window.

The sound of chopper rotors caught her attention and she watched a helicopter lift off from behind another. Wait, that was the helicopter Mitya said he flew! She knew it from the pictures. Which meant her Papa was probably there.

Papa!!" She yelled, hoping he would hear her. Lazar reached a hand to her shoulder to keep her from running and falling.

But the chopper made no indication it noticed her. The giant body tilted to catch air as Park leaned out the window and opened fire, her bullets striking the belly of the machine before it loped through the sky and out of sight.

A wave of emotion washed over her as tears sprang to her eyes. Papa wouldn't leave her. Not again, right? Maybe he just needed to park his chopper somewhere else. Yeah, that had to be it. She'd get to see him again! They'd have cupcakes for her birthday and then she could go on her first flight with Arash—

Wait.

Sadness captured her and she hugged herself, hardly aware of Lazar pushing her along the scaffolding and to the roof. If her birthday was already over and Arash didn't like her as Uncle Russell said, then that meant Papa didn't come and pick her up like he promised. 

Maybe he didn't like her either...

She stopped in her tracks and held her hands over her face as memories began to swirl in her head, her ears ringing of dialogue. For a brief moment, she was back at the warehouse, Volkov scowling as he bled out before her.

_"Your father would be disappointed in you, little one. Working with American scum? And what for? You'll die in their hands, be it on the battlefield or later."_

Fingers snapped before her face again. "Bell!" Park shouted, waking Bell from her trance. A quick glance around revealed a full force firefight atop the roofs. The remaining CIA soldiers spread across the available ground, though their numbers paled in comparison to the enemy soldiers. An airplane hovered daintily over the rooftops, its giant guns whirring and tearing any structure in its path. One CIA soldier had put up a giant balloon held down by a bag. Why none of the enemies popped it, Bell didn't know.

Park and an unknown voice passed words over the radio as she and Lazar moved towards the balcony. She reached into a bag and pulled out a bunch of straps, which she began clipping on herself. Curiosity got the better of her, and Bell peered into the bag, frowning when nothing more exciting but straps sat inside. Maybe there was something at the bottom?

She didn't get time to search, for Park pushed her aside and fumbled through the harnesses. The unfamiliar voice spoke again and Park responded by yelling to one of the CIA soldiers, who signaled for his team to back off. The soldiers retreated the way they came as Park tossed some straps to Lazar. She motioned for Bell to holster her pistol before starting to wrap other straps around Bell's torso.

"RPG!!!" Lazar yelled. Bell's head shot up and her eyes widened as she watched the rocket pummel through the air towards them. And then she was in Park's arms as Park dove for the ground. The rocket hit the balcony. Stone chips scattered everywhere. The last thing Bell saw before things went black was the rapidly accelerating ground coming at her.

It was the buzzing in her ears that woke her first. Bell pushed herself off the ground, groaning. Ow... Uncle Russell better know how to fix headaches because this one was far more painful than she could remember ever having. Her arms gave out and she decided laying on the ground would suffice.

Her eyes opened. Two bullets with scratched-in smiles and her knife sat a distance from her. Moving her good arm shifted her vest in an unpleasant way, and a glance down at herself revealed the badly damaged equipment, barely still on her body.

She reached out and pulled her knife closer though she had nowhere to store it anymore. Then she tried to grab her bullets. Her fingers came up short of the closer one. Grunting, she found the strength to kick and try and propel herself closer. "Zaya..." she whimpered, her body stinging as she moved. "Volkshka... don't run away..."

Something moved on her right. Oh, just Park. Who was almost laying on top of her. "Park?" Bell managed to say through her bleeding tongue. Park didn't respond, her eyes unfocused. Cuts lined her face and hands, and her clothes were ripped. Her breathing didn't sound right either, mimicking the same wheeze Uncle Russell had back in the KGB place.

Bell glanced back at Zayats and Volk, then at Park. Her attention chose Park. "Park...!" She elbowed Park lightly.

Park grunted. "B-Bell...?"

"Zayats and Volk... I can't reach them..." Why did it hurt to speak? Bell turned her attention back towards the bullets, then got distracted when she heard another moan beyond her bullets. "Lazar!"

"Fuckkk..." Lazar groaned. He tried to get up but instead flopped back down. His eyes turned towards her and he reached out. She tried to grab his hand but missed. So he instead flicked Zayats to her, also unable to reach Volk. She caught Zayats and stored her in the medical pouch at her hip. 

A foot dropped between her and Lazar, barely missing Lazar's fingers. Her weary eyes glanced up to see a man in a trench coat and gas mask. A Kalash rested in his hands while a rocket launcher sat on his back. "Papa...!" She squirmed to try and get up, then gave up when her body couldn't move without flashing pain.

Papa removed his gas mask and... oh... just Artyom... well that was a bit disappointing, but at least he was here. "Artyom, help me and Lazar and Park."

Park's radio crackled and the unfamiliar voice began speaking. And then it began counting in English.

_10_

Park shot to action, reaching to Bell's hip and seizing her pistol. She aimed it towards Artyom, growling.

_9_

Artyom was too fast, kicking Park's hand and sending the pistol off the balcony.

_8_

"Artyom, wait!" Bell wailed as Park made an attempt to catch the pistol. "They're nice!"

_7_

"Park! No!" Lazar yelled. "___ __ ___ _______!" Park stopped moving and Bell glanced back and forth between the three, trying to take in every detail.

_6_

Artyom scooped up Bell, Park's single effort to stop him failing. "What are you doing!?" Bell cried. "Artyom, help them!"

_5_

Park reached for the giant hook at the end of the balloon. Lazar tried to reach for his rifle only to be kicked across the face. "Lazar!" Bell wailed. 

_4_

"It's time for you to go home, Lyusha." Artyom said. Park frantically working with the balloon clip.

_3_

"No!" Bell shouted. Why wasn't he helping Park and Lazar? Wasn't he an adult? Adults help each other, don't they? Bell began to kick him. "Let me go! Let me go!"

_2_

The clip snapped in place. Lazar threw some rubble at Artyom, who responded by pointing the Kalash at him. "Artyom! Stop!" Bell screamed.

_1_

Time slowed down. Park's eyes filled with tears as she took one more look at Lazar and Bell. One tear even slid down her cheek. Lazar managed a small smile as he nodded to Park with a determined gaze, then shifted his attention to Bell, softness taking over his eyes. "Желаю тебе удачи. I wish you luck, Lyudmila."

The plane shot overhead, yanking Park off the ground. And Artyom's Kalash opened fire.

_ **"LAZAR!!!"** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you save Lazar, Park, or neither. 
> 
> Personally, I saved neither. I didn't know anything about them and was like, "Eh, we can do without." Now, I save Lazar. What can I say, I'm a Lazar simp. 
> 
> On a completely different note, I have been thinking about another campaign based story after this one is finished. While I have some ideas, nothing is set in stone. Rest assured, I will finish this story first before I really dive into that one! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! You know the drill by now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Maybe drop a comment or a kudos? Or don’t. Do whatever you feel like lol.


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